No, no, don’t get too excited, this isn’t some post detailing some girly drama or anything of that sort. I meant it quite literally.
Stop. The. Cat. Fights.
Lately right around 3:00am there ensues the loudest, most annoying ruckus you can imagine in our master bedroom.
Marlow, Male, age 14
Weight Class: 15.0 pounds
Color: orange and white
Disposition: generally cranky but gets bonus points for putting up with Lily
Kicia, Female age 7 (pronounced kee-cha, means kitty in Polish)
Weight Class: 7.6 pounds, don’t let the poofy hair fool you, she’s tiny
Color: brownish blackish mix with a poofy horse tail
Disposition: skittish, jumpy, sweet, but don’t you dare rustle a plastic bag around her or she’ll run for the hills
These two are like oil and water. After 7 years, Marlow has yet to accept Kicia into the circle of trust and hisses at her if she approaches. This normally does not disrupt the household unduly, except for when it occurs at around 3am.
Shrieks, howls, tumbles, hisses and fur flying. It culminates with Marlow, angry and annoyed, skulking off towards Lily’s room and starting a series of howls loud enough to raise the dead, let alone a sleeping 3.5 year old.
I offered these lovelies up for free to friends on Facebook but there were no takers. Go figure 🙂