Cats on Thursday
I'd wait until the traditional jour to write up a post about the boys, but the lads are driving me crazy. Perhaps that's part of the plan. Like Kimberly at Music and Cats, we've had to listen to the sounds of discord this summer.
They seem to have gotten on each others' nerves. Don't know if it's because I've been at home more often than in the past, or if my traveling for a week at a time has thrown them off (off what? you may ask, and rightfully so. ) their daily schedule which includes napping, eating, birdwatching and more napping. Oh, and getting their bellies rubbed.
The battles seem more territorial than anything, with the Dude staking out an ottoman in Paul's study, the ottoman in the rec room near Paul's television-watching rocker, and, of course, Paul. The Bink, who is generally less people-dependent that the Dude, has claimed the round carpet that sits in the dining room next to the computer table where I've been working these past few months. "Claimed" as in he'd put a moat around it if he could; as in he won't let the Dude walk on it if he's sitting there.
The carpet has become his territory, where he stretches out and watches me work, or demands belly rubs, or sits and watches the rest of the world go by (not much of that happening in my dining room, but the Bink is nothing if not prepared.). Should the Dude stroll across the carpet, the tussle begins and the claws come out, and before you know it, there's this hissing, tumbling ball o'cats rolling lopsidedly around the living room.
Unlike battles past, these fights are intense. They're not play-wrestling. Noses get scratched. Feelings are hurt. Fur flies. The sounds of growling and the thudding of big cat feet racing down the hallway drown out any music on the ipod.
I'm hoping they'll grow out of it. Soon. If not, I'd like to invite Becky's cat, Ruthie, to come down and straighten out the boys.
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