I’m relaxing on my pillow when Salem races into the room yelling, “HIDE!”, like his tail is on fire.
I glance around and ask, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Teenager just walked in wearing something called fishnets, which sounded cool at first, I mean fish, but when I saw her,” he drops his head, “well, it wasn’t good. When our human sees it, bad things are going happen.”
“I’m sure it isn’t that bad.” I wave my paw, but as soon as I get the words out of my mouth, I hear Teenager yelling.
“You bought me this top!”
Our human yells back, “I bought it for your American Girl doll, not you! And that was three years ago!!! How on earth did you even get it over your head?”
“I’m not a little girl anymore and I’m not going to dress like one!”
“Oh, really? Then whose teddy bear is that sitting on your bed? And who was it exactly that got into a fight yesterday with their little brother over who had more Cap’n Crunch cereal in their bowl?”
“Snookums Bear is just part of my décor,” Teenager stomps her foot, “and you know Michael always eats the good cereal before I can get any!”
Salem looks at me and points a paw, “She is an adult you know.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She wrote it in crayon, right there on her door.”
He grins, “Let’s listen from under the bed.”
I nod, “I’ll grab the kibble.”