Salem and I are sitting in the living room, watching Teenager. She’s kneeling in front of the window and praying for snow.
Salem shakes his head, “She hates the cold. Why is she doing that?”
I pat my fur and smile. “Math test tomorrow.”
Salem perks up, “Look. Our human is sticking to her New Year’s resolution.”
“How can you tell?”
“She’s yelling at her kids in person instead of texting them from the other room.”
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.
Salem looks at me and asks, “Why so glum?”
“I’m having trouble thinking of a New Year’s resolution.”
“How about cutting back on tuna?”
“Whoa, there’s no reason to be mean.”
“How about you resolve to be more loving toward your little brother here, good ole Salem?”
I put my paw to my belly, “Stop, you’re killing me!”
I stop laughing and pat Salem on the back. “Thanks, buddy. That’s a good idea. I will resolve to laugh more in the New Year.”
Salem and I would like to wish everyone a healthy and safe New Year filled with laughter.
Our male human looks at our other human, “Why are you feeding Suki so early? Dinnertime isn’t for another hour?”
“I know, but he won’t stop meowing, and the guilt is killing me.”
An hour later…
“Honey, Suki is asleep on my feet. Can you hand me that remote?”
And later still…
The male human narrows his eyes and asks, “Why are you sitting in that weird position? It doesn’t look comfortable at all.”
“It’s not, but Suki is still curled up on me, and I don’t want to disturb him.”
“Dear, I hate to say it, but I’m pretty sure you’re his bitch.”
Wishing everyone a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! Love Suki and Salem
I look at Salem, “Our human is rocking this parenting thing.”
“How can you tell?”
“Easy, Teenager hates her, she can make the ‘little one’ behave with a single look, and last week she made a teacher cry.”
Salem’s eyes narrow, “I saw her eat a gingerbread house last night.”
“Well, to be fair, one of the Teenagers had just asked for a snake for Christmas, and the other one said something about a tattoo.”
Salem nods, “Man, she’s so lucky she has us.”
“Yep, she is,” I smile in agreement. “If you’ll excuse me now, I have to go yak on the stairs over there.”
Salem: “Did you tear my stuffed mouse?”
Me: I point to the elf
Our human: “Who snagged my new sweater?”
Me: I glance up at the elf.
Me: “Salem, I heard that elf wants you to leave out some tuna for him tonight.”
Salem: “And what if I don’t?”
Me: “Then he tells Santa, and you won’t get a present this year.”
Salem: “Do you think he likes Chunk Light or Albacore?”
Salem: “Why is that elf always up high, out of my reach?”
Me: “He thinks you have Covid, so he’s keeping six feet away.”
Me: “Sorry Salem, Santa said I get your treats this year.”
Salem: “What?! Why? What did I do?”
Me: “Santa asked who puked on that chair over there, and that elf picked you out of a line-up. Tough break.”
Salem trots up to me, and he looks pretty angry. “Did you tear my stuffed mouse?”
I avoid eye contact and instead point to a small red elf sitting on the mantel.
Salem hisses at the elf and walks away.
That was a close call, but in my defense, I heard that elf was nothing but a snitch.
My little brother Salem trots up to me and asks, “Do you think now is a good time to tell our human what we want for Christmas?”
I look him in the eyes and say, “No, I would wait.”
“Why, what’s up?”
“Well, Teenager just went up to her and told her that if she didn’t get her own car for Christmas, she was just going to die.”
“So, our human is busy planning the funeral.”
I’m sitting in the yard when I see the cute Tabby from next door walk by. I quickly make a snowball and toss it at her.
“Suki! You flea-ridden, mangy cat. I’ll get you.” She picks up a snowball and chunks it right at my head.
I flick my paw in her direction and yell, “You wish your fur looked this good, you dog-breath stray!”
Salem stares at me and gasps, “What are you doing?”
I look at him and shrug, “Flirting.”
Salem scurries up to me, “Hey, Suki. There’s a cool tree in the house to climb on. Come on.”
I nod my head slowly, “Ah, the test has begun.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this time every year the humans bring a tree into the house, and we aren’t allowed to climb on it. It’s a test.”
He stares at me, “Really?”
“Yep. Then they dangle shiny objects on strings on the tree, and you can’t touch those either. If you make it a whole month without doing it, a guy named Santa breaks into the house one night and leaves you a present. If you don’t pass the test, you get nothing.”
“That seems mean.”
“Well, that’s the rules.”
He crouches down, assuming a lunge position, “Okay. I call dibs on the first branch.”
I hold up my paw, “Weren’t you listening? We won’t get a present if we don’t pass.”
He grins. “I figured those rules don’t apply once it’s been peed on.”
Our human looks at Teenager and asks, “Why are you dressed like that?”
“What do you mean? I’m just wearing jeans and a sweater.”
“That’s my point. Your skin is all covered up.”
Teenager brushes her off, “Ha, ha. You’re so funny.”
Looking confused, our human stammers, “Is your room clean?”
“Yes, I cleaned it this morning.”
“Then go do your homework. You must be way behind.”
“I’m not, but you’re right, I guess I could start studying for mid-terms early.”
As Teenager leaves the room, our human says, “I have no idea what she’s mad about, but this is going to stop right now!”
After putting the food on the table, our human yells out, “Dinner!”
Ten minutes later, she yells again, “Dinner is ready.”
Another ten minutes goes by before Teenager saunters to the table and slowly reclines in his chair.
Our human scowls, “You were only in the next room. What took you so long?”
“I had to tell Dad I won my track meet today.”
“Oh, yeah? What event?”
“The hundred-yard dash.”
Salem and I were bored, so we decided to eavesdrop on our humans.
“Ok, Mom, this old phone is just too embarrassing. I need a new one.”
“Oh, you’re exaggerating.”
Teenager waves her phone in the air, “I had to hide behind the auditorium just to make a phone call after school.”
Our human waves her off, “Minor inconvenience.”
“I was surrounded by kids who were smoking, and not just cigarettes. One girl had piercings all over her face, and she was practically having sex with something covered in tattoos.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Mom. When I pulled out my flip phone, they all backed away from me.”
I’m packing up my stuffed mouse and some catnip when Salem walks up. “What are you doing? Are you going someplace?”
“I’m taking a vacation. I can’t take looking out that same window one more day. I need a change of scenery.”
“Where are you going to go?”
I stand up straight, grab my bag, and point, “Under that bed over there.”
Salem and I race into the hall at the sound of our human screaming.
It’s Monday morning, and Teenager isn’t out of bed yet. We glance at the clock on the wall, “Yep, she’s going to miss the bus again.”
We watch in wonder as our human rapidly fires out words that we don’t even know the meaning of. Then, Teenager does something we know won’t end well; she rolls her eyes.
Salem turns his head, “I can’t watch.”
I look at my human and smile, “Wait, I’ve seen this movie. Any second now, her head is going to start spinning around.”