Oliver, a Pixiebob of considerable charm and wit, had a peculiar habit of finding things. Not just the usual feline trophies like dead mice or the occasional bird, but things of a more unusual nature. Once, he’d unearthed a Roman coin in the garden, and another time, a set of false teeth under the sofa. But his most extraordinary find was yet to come.

One day, while rummaging in the attic, Oliver discovered a dusty old tapestry. It was a magnificent piece of work, depicting scenes of knights, dragons, and castles. But as Oliver gazed at it, he noticed something peculiar. The scenes on the tapestry were changing, shifting, weaving themselves into new patterns. It took him a moment to realize what was happening. The tapestry was showing future events.

Now, Oliver was a cat of considerable intelligence, but even he was taken aback by this. He watched as the tapestry showed him scenes of his future: himself eating a particularly large tuna, his owner finally buying that plush cat bed he’d been eyeing, and, most shockingly, his best friend, a scruffy terrier named Max, stealing his favorite toy mouse.

Oliver was horrified. Max, his loyal companion, a thief? It couldn’t be. But the tapestry had been right about the tuna and the cat bed. Could it be wrong about this?

Days turned into weeks, and Oliver watched Max like a hawk. He guarded his toy mouse with a ferocity that surprised even himself. But Max showed no signs of thievery. He was the same old Max, friendly and a bit dim, with no interest in anything that didn’t involve food or belly rubs.

Oliver began to relax. Perhaps the tapestry had been wrong. Perhaps Max wasn’t a thief after all. But then, one day, it happened. Oliver returned from a nap to find his toy mouse missing. He searched high and low, but it was nowhere to be found. And then he saw it. In Max’s bed, nestled among the dog toys, was his beloved mouse.

Oliver felt a pang of betrayal. He had trusted Max, defended him even when the tapestry had shown him the truth. And now, his trust had been repaid with treachery. He confronted Max, hissing and spitting with all the fury of a betrayed feline. But Max just looked at him with his big, dumb eyes, wagging his tail in confusion.

In the end, Oliver retrieved his mouse and retreated to his favorite spot on the windowsill. He felt a deep sadness, not just for the loss of his toy, but for the loss of his trust in his friend. He gazed out at the garden, his tail twitching in agitation.

But then, something caught his eye. Max was in the garden, digging a hole. And in his mouth, was a new toy mouse, identical to the one he’d stolen. Oliver watched as Max buried the mouse, then trotted back inside, tail wagging, looking pleased with himself.

Oliver was stunned. Max hadn’t stolen his mouse. He’d buried it, like a treasure, and replaced it with a new one. It was a strange, doggy gesture of friendship, but a gesture nonetheless. Oliver felt a rush of relief, and a little bit of guilt. He’d been so quick to judge Max, to believe the worst of him. But in the end, Max had proven himself to be a true friend.

As for the tapestry, Oliver decided to ignore it from then on. After all, it was just a piece of cloth. And as any cat knows, the future is far too unpredictable to be woven into a tapestry.