One night I noticed Powder standing on her hind legs trying to look in the garbage. That was weird. That cat doesn’t normally acknowledge lowly things like garbage.
All during the night Freckles was restless. She was up and down off the bed. I got up and let her out in the middle of the night. It didn’t help.
When morning came I saw the problem. Someone had knocked over the garbage and spread it about until they unearthed a chicken carcass. It was in the middle of the kitchen untouched. The untouchedness led me to conclude that it was Freckles. She had taken it out and then got so guilty that she couldn’t even snack on it.
I walked back into the bedroom and looked at Powder and Freckles. Powder did not deign to acknowledge my stare. She maintained her air of being so above petty concerns like humans and dogs. Freckles, on the other hand, was a wreck. She knew she had been bad and was busted. She started whimpering and crying and snuggling up to the SO and begging for her life.
We laid in bed and cuddled her. She was punishing herself more than we ever could. But, the cat – who probably put her up to it given her previous interest in the garbage – finally couldn’t take it any longer. She calmly walked across the bed and proceeded to smack Freckles repeatedly on the head. The message was clear. “They got no proof on us if you don’t confess, you worthless mutt.”
There was one other player. Jules had a clear view of the crime from her cage. She was squawking early that morning. Apparently she was ratting out the wrong doers. Now if we could just convince her to talk and learn everyone’s names we’d know exactly what happened.