Or perhaps more like hiss, spit, and snarl.
George is our almost-thirteen-year-old cat. He’s a very pampered kitty who loves to play, though he may be maturing at last. I mean, this is the first Christmas he did NOT remove and ornaments from the tree to play soccer with in the dead of night. (We always tie our tree to a hook in the ceiling since he brought the whole thing down on his head during his second Christmas season!)
He loves our open stairs, loves to play tag. He nearly always swats without claws, unless he has been provoked over and over and really is annoyed. Here he is playing with my son:
But last week his little world got a fly in its ointment. We are fostering our son’s cat for the next few months while he and his wife are in South America. King George the First is Not Impressed.
The little lady, Princess Lelu, is unsure what to make of George. George is ignoring her for hours on end and then going after her with much snarling and hissing. She’s spending a lot of time on the stairs because it is The High Ground from where she can see everything. (For now, we’re keeping the bedroom doors closed upstairs, so there’s really no place to go up above.) So he’ll rush up the stairs past her, and she’ll come down. But he gets bored up there pretty quick, and as soon as he comes down for another nap (or snoop!) she runs back up the stairs and sits where she can see everything. At the moment, she seems able to sit there for quite a few hours at a time.
Today is the first time they’ve been left home alone for more than an hour or two. I wonder how much fur will be on the floor when I get home?