Trouble

“Trouble, I tell you that cat is trouble.” Hoax sat under the table. He listened to the people talking over supper.

“All cats are trouble. What’re you gonna do about him?” Jinks asked.

They both waited for food. Supper was the best. Usually one of the kids could be counted on to drop something.

“Personally, I’d like to kick him out the window, but, you know, we have to be smart about this. Abner is one wise cat.”

Jinks snagged a fry, Hoax grabbed a piece of hamburger. Abner perched on the window, spying on them.

They took a moment, then Jinks said, “What about trappin’ him outside? You know, lure him out when we go out. That ole’ cat next door will make mincemeat of him.”

“You know he’s listening to everything we say.”

“Nah, he can’t understand dog.”

“Sure he can. Cats are bilingual.”

Abner slinked over to the two, laid between them

“You do know I can understand everything you two say.” He licked each of his paws.

Hoax pushed Abner just a smidge. “Prove it, feline.”

“You’re going to lure me outside and hope that alley cat works me over.” Abner pushed back Hoax, a bigger smidge.

Jinks sprang up. “Yeah, well how do you know we weren’t speaking in code? Huh?” His little tail flipped back and forth.

“Because your tiny chihuahua brain isn’t big enough to think in code. Meow, and meow, because mew, meow mew meow mew mew meow.”

“What?” Jinks laid down, defeated.

“Like Hoax said, I am bilingual. Careful what you say, boys, I understand everything.”

“So, Jinks, I guess it’s ix-nay on the oor-day. Okay?”

“Huh?”

Abner sighed. “Good grief.”

W/C 280