Brothers

As my brother Salem is sitting on top of me, pinning me down, a large drop of spittle is forming in the corner of his mouth. As brothers often do, he threatens to let it drop on my face if I don’t submit to his will.

“Say it. Say you won’t touch my things ever again.”

I can’t help but stare at the drool forming into a large droplet dangling precariously from his lips. It could drop at any moment and yet I surprisingly hold firm. “NO.”

He grins and shakes his head causing the droplet to start to separate from his mouth. “Swear you won’t take anything of mine again!” He leans closer so that his face is within one inch of mine and says it one more time with gusto, “Sweaaaaar it!”

“Aaaaah, I swear. I swear,” I utter as his claws dig into my chest.

He lifts his body off of mine and struts away in triumph. Sitting up, I shake his loose hairs off of me. I glance over and see that his food dish still has several Friskies treats in it. Hmm, I scratch my head. I wonder what flavor those are?

If only there were some way to find out.

Flirting 101

I finally relent and allow my big brother Salem teach me how to flirt. He seems to have a lot more success with the females than I do, so I figure, why not?

He stands in front of me and says, “Ok, show me what you got.”

I proceed to wink. Half my face seizes up on one side and both my eyes close instead of one. He stares at me blankly.

“What. Was. That?”

“A wink?”

“Stop that.”

“No good?”

“I almost called 911 for you.”

I throw my paws up in the air and walk away, “I give up.” I hear Chihuahuas aren’t very picky.

I’m Bored

Out of the corner of my eye I see my little brother Salem walking by. I immediately sit up and begin biting the air.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m pretending to eat your birthday cake,” I pause for dramatic effect, “and it’s goooood.”

His eyes bulge, “STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!”

I smile, “No,” and continue to eat the fake cake.

“That’s mine!! Cut it out!”

“Oh, wait,” I pause and smile, “I haven’t blown out the candles yet.”

“You’re going to die!” He races toward me.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I haul ass into the next room and spend the better part of the night hiding under the bed. Times are good.

Ah, Siblings…

My little brother Salem has been sleeping on the floor for the last hour when he wakes up and glances around confused, “Where’d my sunbeam go?”

I smile, “Oh, I turned it off. Sorry.”

He cuts his eyes at me, “Well turn it back on.”

“No.”

He stands up and says a bit louder, “I said, ‘turn it back on’.”

I said, ‘No’.”

Salem crouches down, preparing to lunge, “Turn. It. On!”

I race away screaming, “Noooooooooooooo!”

P.S. I just wanted to share that I made FeedSpot.com’s top 200 cat blogs list. I’m number 138!! Hey, I’m estatic just to make the list!! Check it out: Their list of top cat blogs: https://blog.feedspot.com/cat_blogs/

The Pacifist In Me

My little brother Salem is what you might call hospitably challenged. You see, in the world of felines, there are bullies and there are those that are bullied. Salem is a born and bred bully. He kind of prides himself on it. I myself am an accomplished pacifist. Which means I can run fast. Very, very fast.

I’m more of a brains cat than a brawny one. My battles take planning. Scheming. I find that revenge, like tuna, is best served cold.

Today, I found the outer shell of one of Salem’s claws stuck in my fur. A souvenir from yesterday’s surprise attack. Well, I’m getting even. When he wakes from his nap, he’ll find his face staring at the business end of Teenager’s underwear. Underwear I found on the floor!

“Suuuukkkkkkiiii!!!!!!”

Ack! I gotta go.

My Little Brother Brags Too Much, So……

Lately, my little brother Salem has been bragging like a dog about his two dates with Shorthair. It fluffs my tail if you know what I mean.

So, needless to say, I was not in the most gracious mood today.

Salem saunters over to take a sip of water out of our new water dish.

I hold up my paw, “Halt! You can’t drink out of that.”

Salem’s mouth drops open and he stares at me, “Why not?”

“That dish is sacred. Do you see that chip on the edge? It is said that it came from the human who is a cousin to the human who once pet Grumpy Cat’s real live mother.” My paw flourishes over the dish to show the magnitude of the situation.

He steps back in awe, “Ahh, I had no idea.”

I puff up my chest with pride and lower my voice in respect of “the dish”. I point a paw toward our human’s bathroom toilet, “You may drink from there.”

Salem trots off and I snicker as I drink the sweet water of revenge.

Nightly Games

Salem and I are playing our nightly game of Truth or Dare. I look at him and say, “I dare you to go from the living room to the kitchen without touching the floor.”

“Easy peasy,” he waves a paw at me. He turns and bounds from the top of the sofa to the back of the chair in one glorious leap that rivals that of any leopard. Then he soars from the back of the chair to the breakfast bar. As he slides across it, he knocks off two cups before careening to a stop.

Impressive.

He smiles and looks at me, “My turn. Truth or Dare?”

My physical prowess tends to rival that of the fat cat Garfield than anyone else, so why embarrass myself? “Truth.”

Salem narrows his eyes at me, “Did you tell Shorthair that I have fleas?”

“Ummm…” (What I said was that I saw a flea on you. Really, I don’t know how these things get so exaggerated.)

Run!!!!!!