Salem and I were still young when it happened. Salem was only a few months old, and I was almost 2. Our humans had just brought a second little human home. It came with screams, and cries, and unimaginable odors.
One morning, the first little human, what they called a toddler, was running around the room and throwing things when I heard the sound of glass breaking. I turned to look, and it was actually Salem that had broken something. I shook my head in shame. Kittens, they’re the worst.
The older male human shuffled in, his eyes dark, and his face grim. He looked around at the little human and then at Salem and me and said to our other human, “One of them has got to go. It’s just too much right now.”
I lowered my head and reached for my luggage.
Salem pounced over. “What are you doing?”
“You heard the man. Someone’s got to go.” I turned and did the most prudent thing I could. I began packing all of the toddler’s toys into the suitcase.