Cats Rule, Dogs Drool

   Roxy is having to adjust to a new regime.

    Roxy is our dog: 

She is, as you can see,  a mixed breed: the body of a border collie, the calm, collected personality of a Tasmanian Devil, and the intelligence of a cheese grater.  She is also, as she is slowly learning, at the bottom of the pecking order in our house.

 

You see, when Roxy arrived on the scene a year ago, there were already two other four-legged family members.  The house was under the control of two cats, one named Oliver:

... and a much smaller, emergency auxiliary cat named Ducky:

The two cats got along well and were able to maintain order in their kingdom.

    Then came Roxy.

    When Roxy first bounded, panting and drooling, into the house, Ducky immediately bolted for the upper floors.  She wanted no part of the dog, and evidently willingly ceded the lower half of the house.

    Oliver made no such deal.  His attitude shifted from exasperation, to resignation,  and finally resentment.

    At first, Oliver was off-put by this clumsy, rude intruder, who not only jammed her curious nose into places a cat would rather not be sniffed but who had the effrontery to gobble down any stray cat kibble Oliver would leave behind. 

The first few times this happened, Oliver would look at his now-empty dish, then at me, as if to say “Did you see that?  I was saving that for later!  Where are the manners?  Are we animals here?”

    After a while, he learned to make short work of his dinner, not only to protect his food from Roxy's poaching but to save himself the indignity of eating supper with a dog’s nose lifting his back paws off the ground.

    It’s not that Roxy means Oliver any harm.  She actually seems to adore Oliver, which - as anyone who has ever been employed as an Organic Food Dispensing Unit for a cat will tell you - is the surest way to earn a cat’s contempt. 

    It was comical to watch Roxy follow Oliver around the house, half-bounding, vibrating like a tuning fork, waiting for this long-suffering cat to play with her.  (The chances of that happening, by the way?  Slim and fat.)

    But she never gave up.  Roxy would prance along beside Oliver as he paraded in a stately manner from room to room, and you could almost hear Roxy saying “What are we gonna do now?  Huh?  Huh?  Wanna go into the living room?  I bet there’s lots of neat stuff to do in there, huh?  I bet we can play a neat game in there, huh?  Wanna?  Wanna?”

    All this, Oliver endured with a regal indifference.  The look on his  face was: “Why, dear Lord?  Why?”  The poor guy was in his own private Hell.

    And then came the day that Ducky said, “Enough.”

    Ducky is a small cat; much smaller than Oliver.  She’s a tortoise-shell, with gorgeous markings and beautiful, delicate features.  She came to us as a stray - we have no idea what her life was like before she arrived, except her tail was badly injured, possibly in a tussle with coyotes or foxes.  We nursed her back to health and she’s been a quiet, dainty, shy presence in the house since then.

    Well, whatever happened to her tail, I’d hate to see the other guy.

    I was in the living room, watching TV when she rounded the corner noiselessly.  Roxy didn’t even wake up, until Ducky sat in the middle of the floor, looked directly at Roxy, and said (and I quote) “Meow.” 

It wasn't said with curiousity.  it wasn't said plaintively.  The only way to describe this "meow" is to translate it loosely as "Okay, then."

    The effect was galvanic.  Roxy leapt up and galumphed over to Ducky.

    The attack, when it came, was sudden, explosive, and terribly decisive.  This tiny, meek, skittish cat turned into a snarling, hissing tornado of claws, teeth, and spittle.  You remember the cat-and-dog fights in the cartoons, which were portrayed as this hovering puff of smoke with claws and fangs and fur exploding out of the middle?  Yeah, like that, except a tad more vicious.

   Roxy yelped and retreated to her bed, ears back, tail wagging timidly, cringing as Ducky slowly advanced, then stopped two feet away from Roxy and just fixed that dog with a baleful glare that even made my blood run cold.

    I could even read the telepathic message in that glare: “Dog, you are done.  No more.  This is my house, you are here under my sufferance, and if you so much as twitch a whisker in a way that displeases me I will carve you like a Christmas turkey.  Are we clear?  I said “Are we clear?””

    Oh, it was clear.

    Once again, the cats have the full run of the house.  Roxy still forgets herself around Oliver and tries to get him to play, but if Ducky even glances in her direction, Roxy will retire to her bed, quite literally a whipped puppy.

    I’ve never been much of a cat person, but I have to give credit where it’s due: they know who’s in charge.  And it isn’t a dog.

    And sadly, it sure isn't isn’t a human.

Comments

[suburban misfit]

Ohmygod, that's funny.

I can see it so clearly. We have the same situation, except replace the dog with another cat who thinks he's a dog.

[Squirl]

When I was growing up my family was stupid enough to introduce a dog into a, formerly, all-cat household. We had two long-time cats then. The puppy had no chance. We would, quite often, find cat claw sheaths caught in the fur close to his eyes.

They all eventually learned to tolerate each other, but the dog knew who ruled the roost. Of course, it wasn't the humans. :-)

[Spurious Plum]

I love this post for many reasons, but my top two are "baleful glare" and "carve you like a Christmas turkey".

Ah, Nilbo. I've missed you so.

[whfropera]

Linus was wondering when you would finally get around to recognizing the superiority of the cat.

[Susie]

A chilling and evocative portrayal of domestic violence.

[Laura]

I've never seen the cats before. These were good picts, Nils. How did you get Roxy to sit still for the shot? I've always pictured her like Tigger, bouncing around with all over the place.

[Nils]

She's catching her breath in that shot. You can't HEAR what's being said as the picture is being taken ... "STAY. No. STAY. Don't move, Roxy. Stay. Staaaaaay ..." *click* ... SPROING! She's off and running again.

The Duckster is actually much cuter than that pic would indicate ... her expression in the shot seems to say "If you take one more picture of me, I'm going to get all Sean Penn on your ass ..."

[HDL]

This is definitely the story of my life right now!

[Amanda B.]

This sounds very familiar. We are just lucky our feline companions let us live indoors.

[marybishop]

A great tale of two tails! Love your word choices in this story.

We have the same situation in our house, the cats rule. A cat may walk up to a dog bowl while a dog is eating and try a kibble or two, and the dog will retreat and wait for the cat to finish.

If it's the reverse and a dog nears the catfood dish the cat will growl and hiss.

The 230 pounds of dogs are intimidated by the 18 pounds of cats.

[kalki]

I read this to my cats last night (you know, bedtime story) and they all agreed that Ducky is a hero.

[jodi]

I read this a few days ago and it still makes me laugh. Reminds me of the current princess that I have and a former one.

[song]

I have three cats and a three year old. Kaidin chese them around and picks them up by the head and makes cubbies for them under his pillow and demands a kiss goodnight for each of them. They put up with it - he's only been scratched about three times in his life - but sometimes they look at me and you can see them thinking "YOU! you gave birth to this. It's all your fault"

My cats run my house. They demand to be let in/let out/fed/cuddled and they all try to sleep on my head or to steal the pillows. But I am a crazy cat lady (not as bad as Jess tho) so i like it.

[Suzie]

Your story gives me hope. I have a fairly young dog that I introduced to an all feline (5 total) household. I have been trying to get the Dog used to seeing the cats but not reacting to them (he's in the herding group of dog breeds and it would be more his nature to chase them). He's actually doing VERY well.

The cats? Not so well.

I still haven't let them meet face to face yet. Just yesterday I had him outside and the cats were inside (behind the sliding glass door) and one of my cats FLUNG his body very violently against the glass leaving spit and claw marks, which were clearly intended for the Dog's face.

Perhaps I will give them more time....and of course, keep my Dog behind protective glass a little while longer as I continue the introductions.

[Lia]

Yep cats rule, dogs drool, I totally agree!

[Guest]

Fuck you!! I hope this blog shall be hacked!!

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[a]

cats stink