Cat Fight

Last evening when we arrived home around 11:30, a black cat ran away from our front porch and dashed up the driveway and through the back yard.

Inside the house Callie, our 14-year-old tortoiseshell, and 636.8 aka Six, our 13-year-old ginger cat, were milling around the foyer. Then we noticed a dozen or so tufts of black and yellow fur on the hardwood floor.

Callie and Six co-exist peacefully about 90% of the time. Callie would like it better if it were 100% since Six pounces on her. When we are around, we can stop him by simply saying, “Six", in that parental voice that says you will die if you continue on the path you have chosen or, at the very least, be banished to the gulag, i.e. basement.

Since there is usually no carnage in his ambushes, we were amazed to see it last night.

Suddenly I heard Six yowl. He was looking out the dining room window. “Oh,” I said, “I bet the black cat caused this. Six was probably so frustrated that he took it out on Callie.”

Today normal relations have resumed. So far Six has not pounced.