We have had our cats for a little less than six months. (Well, the Queen has been with us for years, but the two big guys are October additions.) When they first arrived, there was the expected tension, posturing, hissing, even a few all-out fights. During all of it Queen Salome made her displeasure known, while never actually entering the arena. Then things settled down.
Maybe it's the time of year. Maybe the honeymoon is over. But the three of them have been at each other's throats five or six times a day. And now, they're lying in wait for the others. The Queen has launched herself off the sofa in the hopes of tackling the kitten no fewer than three times this weekend. (She failed all three times.)
There is a little marmalade and white tabby who lives in our neighborhood. I know this because every time her owner takes their beagle for a walk, the cat follows behind. The whole walk. Without a silly cat leash. Without significant distraction. The cat just wants to be with its mama and its puppy.
Why can't my kitties get along like that?
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