Salem has been anxiously watching the mailman all week. “What are you waiting for anyway?” I ask.
“I saved up my paw points for months and ordered a pair of super special x-ray glasses. You can see right through fur with them!”
“That doesn’t sound possible.” I scratch my head.
“Wait and see.” Just then, the mail arrived through the slot. Salem paws through it and rips open a large envelope.
“It’s here!” He hurriedly puts on a pair of black-rimmed glasses and stares at me, grinning.
“Do they work? Can you see anything?”
He squints his eyes, moves his head from side to side, and says, “Ah, fascinating!”
“What? What do you see?”
“I can see all of your bones. They’re gross.” He smiles.
“You can not! Let me try.”
“I can so! And no, your eyes aren’t sophisticated enough to see this. You have to look through them in a certain way.”
He grins, “You have big bones!”
“I do not!” He spends the rest of the day parading around the house in those stupid glasses, acting all superior. After lunch, he looks at me, “I can see what you ate!”
Later, when he’s not looking, I put on the glasses. I don’t see any difference. Maybe I’m not wearing them correctly. I hold up my paw. No bones. Just a furry paw. That dunderhead. He must be making it all up.
Unless there really is a trick to seeing with them. Damn it!