I look down at my bowl and then at Salem, “Our dinner is late again. We have to do something about this. Now.”
“You’re right. You go scratch up her sofa and I’ll stand by and bore holes through her with my eyes.”
“Why do I have to do the hard part? She might get mad.”
“Because I have delicate features. I could never survive on the outside.”
I look at him, “Outside? You think she might ban us to the outside?”
“There are spiders outside,” I glance tentatively out the window.
“Okay. I say we let this one slide, but I have my eyes ready. Next time my dinner is late, she gets my ‘This Kibble is lukewarm and late and about to be flying across the room’ stare.”
I nod in agreement and hurriedly eat my Kibble before a spider appears in the window.