The Very Domestic Political Climate
Oct. 20th, 2009 11:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyI think there’s been some sort of attempted coup shattering the uneasy détente between the cats.
Despite being littermates, Charlotte and Fern get along like Klingons and Romulans. There’s lots of posturing, growling, scheming, and skirmishes, but they’ve worked out an uneasy definition of each side’s territories, and the neutral zones (food dishes, doors, litterbox, porch) are well-established areas where they warily pass each other with elaborate strategies.
This was all well and good until I moved rooms.
It’s the classic clash. The Room In Which Amelia Lives is Charlie’s territory, since I belong to her. My bed and blanket are also hers. However, most of the Downstairs is Fern’s, so when I moved down there—began sleeping on a bed in a Downstairs room, along with my blanket—it confused the whole system.
And now, the Battle For The Bed has begun.
Lately I’ve been catching Fern in Charlie’s designated spot on my bed, daring me to comment. When I was upstairs, you couldn’t get her on my bed with a bowl of Fancy Feast, because by god it was Charlie’s spot. But my move has completely rewritten the rules, and my room is undergoing a shifting of borders on like it’s Poland. I never know who is in charge from one day to the next.
Frankly, I’d prefer that Charlie win. It’s guilty favoritism there, but I have my reasons. Charlie has better manners—she stays off the pillow and away from open clothes drawers. Fern likes to sleep on the dolls’ bunk bed, my pillow, my pajamas, etc.—and she is, er, not as clean as Charlie. Altogether, I can handle Charlie, but Fern trails allergens like Pigpen from Peanuts, and my face tends to try to seal itself shut when she’s around.
So yes, I’m not exactly neutral, but it’s making me wonder if I shouldn’t get Fern a kitty bed. It seems mean to kick her out just because she makes me sneeze, but it might be an acceptable peace agreement.
I’ll just have to see.
Despite being littermates, Charlotte and Fern get along like Klingons and Romulans. There’s lots of posturing, growling, scheming, and skirmishes, but they’ve worked out an uneasy definition of each side’s territories, and the neutral zones (food dishes, doors, litterbox, porch) are well-established areas where they warily pass each other with elaborate strategies.
This was all well and good until I moved rooms.
It’s the classic clash. The Room In Which Amelia Lives is Charlie’s territory, since I belong to her. My bed and blanket are also hers. However, most of the Downstairs is Fern’s, so when I moved down there—began sleeping on a bed in a Downstairs room, along with my blanket—it confused the whole system.
And now, the Battle For The Bed has begun.
Lately I’ve been catching Fern in Charlie’s designated spot on my bed, daring me to comment. When I was upstairs, you couldn’t get her on my bed with a bowl of Fancy Feast, because by god it was Charlie’s spot. But my move has completely rewritten the rules, and my room is undergoing a shifting of borders on like it’s Poland. I never know who is in charge from one day to the next.
Frankly, I’d prefer that Charlie win. It’s guilty favoritism there, but I have my reasons. Charlie has better manners—she stays off the pillow and away from open clothes drawers. Fern likes to sleep on the dolls’ bunk bed, my pillow, my pajamas, etc.—and she is, er, not as clean as Charlie. Altogether, I can handle Charlie, but Fern trails allergens like Pigpen from Peanuts, and my face tends to try to seal itself shut when she’s around.
So yes, I’m not exactly neutral, but it’s making me wonder if I shouldn’t get Fern a kitty bed. It seems mean to kick her out just because she makes me sneeze, but it might be an acceptable peace agreement.
I’ll just have to see.
