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June 23, 2005
Now we are six
With Fred settling in, things are getting to be seriously fun around here. When he first moved in, we had a litter box just for him in the back room, and we also fed the cats upstairs and down, so that he could get to food without having to fight his way there.
But once we saw him using the litter boxes at the end of the pantry, we took away the extra one in the back room. And once he began coming upstairs confidently, the food disappeared from the kitchen. (Now I know it might seem more rational to feed the cats in the kitchen rather than in my study, but Teakettle is sooo on the bottom of the pecking order that she has to fight her way into the kitchen when she goes there. My study, on the other hand, is Sanctuary for All Cats: no one tries to pick a fight in here, because they know I'll break it up. So whoever's on the bottom of the pecking order—first the late Zora and now Teakettle—spends a lotta time in here.)
Ruthie, as the household boss, not only determines which cats get to go in which rooms under what circumstances, but she also pushes BP and me around quite a bit, as well. So this morning, as I fixed my breakfast, Ruth parked in front of the spot where we had been putting food. Just parked. And sat there staring at the empty spot. Luigi and Fred knew darned well what she was doing and figured I'd cave, so they gathered around the campfire and waited for the meal to be served.
I successfully resisted Ruthie's authority (sometimes the downtrodden do assert themselves in the face of hegemony), but on my way back upstairs, I called the cats, assuring them that I'd crack open a can of the Good Stuff once I got back to the study. And what happened then was just a circus, as the three cats boiled up the stairs after me, fighting for who would get there first. All of which doesn't matter anyhow, because the pecking order is unshakable when it comes to who gets to eat first: it's Ruth. And then Luigi. And then Fred. And then Teakettle. And woe betide the cat who tries to jump queue.
Now I ask you: does this cat look like a bossy little tyrant?
Posted by senioritis at June 23, 2005 12:03 PM
Comments
Oh, it's always the sweet looking ones who turn out to be the tyrants.
Posted by: aerobil at June 23, 2005 02:39 PM
She is NOT! I refuse to believe it! That face is just too sweet!
Posted by: dr. b. at June 23, 2005 09:14 PM
Ah yes. The cute ones *are* always the tyrants. One word: Gabe.
Posted by: Donna at June 24, 2005 12:10 PM
she makes a face quite similar to that of *my* bossy little tyrant. so: yes.
Posted by: tyra at June 27, 2005 03:26 PM