“That’s what she said?” Inkblot looked at her younger sister with confusion. The humans often made no sense but right now they made even less than usual.
“Then she said, ‘Emmer, yooou’re soooo cyoooot!’ Which, I know, is obvious.” Ember brought one paw to her tongue and licked delicately, then washed her ear.
A popping noise outside made both cats crouch, another boom had them running up the stairs to hide under the giant cat bed.
“Are we under attack?” Ember asked, huddled up next to her sister.
“When are we not under attack? Whether it’s the female trying to pick us up or give us hugs or …”
“I like hugs. They’re my favorite.”
Inkblot rolled her eyes, “No wonder they love you so much. You cuddle with the humans at night. You cuddle with them during the day. It’s a wonder you don’t go running for rides with them in the car.”
“I would, if they didn’t always end with a visit to the vet.” Ember curled her tail around her feet. “So what do we do to celebrate the new year?”
“The humans drink alcohol and eat lots of salty food. Then they watch a ball on TV. It all seems horribly boring to me.”
“We need a tradition.”
Inkblot did not approve of emulating the humans, but if it meant more treats… “What inane idea have you come up with this time?”
“Raid the treat shelf and take selfies!”
“Do you even know what a selfie is?”
Ember scooted out from under the bed and headed toward the kitchen, “No, but I know where to find the treat shelf.”