We have two house cats here at Falling Downs.
Chloe has been with me since Mildmay. Moved to Durham with me. Always a standoffish bitch. There were times we didn't see her for weeks. She'd be hiding out in the ductwork or visiting the neighbor for days on end. Weeks sometimes.
Mew is a former barn cat who got a promotion. One day you're a barn cat scrapping for survival, next day you're a house cat.
Two things I have to clarify here. First of all, "Mew" is an utterly lame name for a cat. Do you name your dog "bark"? No, it's really stupid. It wasn't me that named her, and that's all I can say about that.
Secondly, the reason she was the only surviving barn cat was because one of the hounds ate all the other barn cats.
That would be Charlie. Most beautiful hound in dog history. Just one little personality flaw; couldn't help herself from eating kittens.
So we were down to one kitten left out of the barn crew, and we thought, well, Charlie doesn't bother the house cat, let's bring Mew indoors. So we did.
And Charlie, may she rest in peace, never did bother her, nor did the other hounds.
But suddenly we had territory strife between Chloe and Mew.
I made the decision early on that there was only going to be one cat-box in the house, and that it's going to be in the basement. The basement steps go from the pantry.
Chloe has staked out her turf in the pantry. There is a heating vent in the pantry she likes to sleep on. With one eye open.
Chloe is ten or twelve years old now, but when that one open eye spots Mew heading for the cat-hole in that pantry door, she rises up in full cat fury, back arched to heaven and hissing and spitting like a rattler in a sleeping bag.
Naturally that scares the crap out of Mew, who was just heading to the cat-box. When Mew can't make it to the cat-box, she tends to leave cat surprises here and there around the house.
So that's kind of where it's at here at Falling Downs. If you come by for a stay-over and you find something nasty in your sheets, you know why.
No comments:
Post a Comment