A TALE OF TWO PETS

By Nick Aires

"AAHHHH!"

Precious was rudely awakened by the loud, shrill sound of a woman's voice. Normally, having her hourly catnap disturbed would have greatly displeased her; but her curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to go see what all the fuss was about.

"Nooooo!" the distraught woman was wailing as Precious entered the kitchen. The woman looked ready to explode. "Henry!" she shrieked, "get in here!"

This ought to be good , Precious thought as she discreetly settled down near the doorway.

"What's the matter now? " Henry demanded as he rushed into the kitchen, visibly agitated by his wife's theatrics.

"Look!" she gestured hysterically at the dog lying on the floor.

The man barely glanced at his wife's pet. He seemed annoyed. "So your mangy mutt fell asleep in his food dish -- so what?"

"He's not asleep, you idiot! He's dead! "

"Dead?"

"Yes! Dead! And don't you play innocent with me! It's obvious you killed him!"

"Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?" Henry's annoyance was clearly growing.

"Because you hated him. You've hated him ever since he bit that stupid cat of yours!" Whitney shouted vehemently.

"Don't be ridiculous! You probably did it!"

"Me? " the woman scowled, her expression indicating that that was possibly the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. "Now who's being ridiculous?" she spat.

The man laughed contemptuously. "I've told you a thousand times not to store the rat poison in the same cupboard as the pet food. You probably bumped the can and spilled some into the dog food!"

"So that's how you did it!"

"Huh?" The man frowned, obviously confused.

"You planned it this way! You used the rat poison so you could make it seem like an accident!"

"Look, Whitney, you're upset. Let's talk about this later -- when you can carry on a rational conversation."

Whitney ignored him and went to the cupboard where the pet food was stored. As she opened the cupboard door, she muttered to herself, "Kill my dog will you? Well, two can play at that game!"

Seeing that she had grabbed the rat poison, Henry demanded to know what she was doing.

Whitney merely shot him a wicked smile as she proceeded to pour some food and poison into the cat's dish. "Precious," she called sweetly, "time to eat."

"No!" Henry shouted as Precious got up and approached her dish.

Henry made a grab for Precious, but Whitney blocked his way, delaying him enough to allow the cat to reach the food.

Precious took one sniff of the deadly treat and backed away.

She knew what poison smelled like. She also knew that the rat poison was kept next to the pet food. Just as she'd known earlier that day that the idiot canine would gobble up his food without bothering to smell it first.