Rex growled at the sliding glass door. “Look at them out there. Running around like they own the place.”
The birdfeeders visible through it were host to a pair of fat orange squirrels who seemed content to laze about eating seeds when it suited them. “They’re mocking us, and they know we know.” Tiger seemed at ease, but the violent herky-jerky movements of his tail belied this.
If there was one thing cats and dogs could agree on, it’s that squirrels were a bad thing.
Rex kept his throat at a low rumble. “I tell you, if I was out there…”
“If you were out there, you’d make a lot of noise, tree them, and they’d sit there smirking until you went inside.” Tiger had seen it a hundred times before.
Tiger continued: “If I were out there, I’d stalk one and murder it and leave it where all could see.”
“And that’s why you’re not allowed out.” Rex well remembered what had happened when the dead squirrel had appeared in the master suite.
“Because I’m too good.” Tiger did take a lot of pride in being the only confirmed squirrelslayer in the household.
“Because you’re too dishonorable.” Rex found the idea of sneaking distasteful; battle was to be joined head-on.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Fine, I will.” Rex kept glaring ouside. “Still, I’d love to know what they’re plotting.”
Out in the garden, the squirrels each had one eye on the glassed-in predators. One rolled over with a lazy chirp: “Our plan is working.”
“Yes, brother.” The other twitched his tail rapidly. “They’re so preoccupied with us, they’ll never see it coming.”