A Tail of Two Kitties.

Sometimes, I just watch Wednesday and Berlioz interact. I suppose they like each other – I mean, they often sit in the same room peacefully, and although they chase each other around sometimes, it never gets violent. They are like polar opposites though in some ways – Wednesday is very neat, quiet, and graceful. Berlioz is a hot mess who flies into a room like a tornado, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. But they both love snuggling (on their own terms of course) and often they just hang out together, doing whatever it is cats do, like staring at things that are apparently invisible to the human eye:

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something only they can see.

And then one day, I think they may have been trying to murder me, or teach me some kind of lesson. At least they were working together:

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this will teach her to give us more dinner.

If the attempted murder actually was a success, what would they do at night, when they’re cold?

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we are definitely NOT snuggled up next to you.

At the end of the day, these two felines from opposite sides of the river, with personalities that couldn’t be any more different, love each other (and by love, I mean tolerate) and bring us joy everyday (and by joy I mean mischief, mutiny, and mayhem).

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joy.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

Frenemies.

Sometimes I think the cats hate each other. They run around the house, hissing, clawing, biting and wrestling. But then there are times when they think I’m not looking, that I catch them in the act of being best friends.

Here, they were in the middle of what appears to be a very important conversation, which I so rudely interrupted.

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plotting.

And one time I woke up, and they were totally snuggling. That is, until they realized I was awake, and all heck broke loose.

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we’re only sleeping.

Another time, I walked into the dining room, and found this. I’m not sure what exactly they were doing, but it was clearly some kind of bonding ritual.

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bonding or just plain weird.

And then there was the day I found them watching the birds together, and I knew once and for all, they were secretly best friends for life.

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BFFs.

Time to drop the facade guys – the cat is out of the bag 🙂

 

Wednesday, meet Berlioz.

Wednesday was here first.

And she won’t let anyone ever forget this. Especially Berlioz.

Wednesday was about 5 when Berlioz arrived on the scene, a mere 3 month old kitten.

Wednesday had been an only child for 2 years. She ran this place – the beds were all hers (including ours). The laps were all hers. The food was all hers. She was fine with this. Except that she often attacked her own tail and seemed to have some anxiety. And she bit us. All the time. But she stayed away from the plants, didn’t try to eat any people food, and only destroyed one particular spot on the couch. Not too shabby, for an odd-eyed cat from the streets of Philadelphia.

But that all changed in July of 2018. I was anxious to introduce Berlioz to her. He was upbeat, had no fear, and loved to be near people and other cats. This was not Wednesday. It’s not that she’s unfriendly – she enjoys being in a room where people are and she is not afraid. She’s just kind of aloof. She likes her space, and is going to let you know when she’s had enough of you being in it. Berlioz had no concept of this, and I knew this would be trouble. But I hoped his extroverted-ness and naiveté would rub off on her, and that her laid back persona and chill attitude would rub off on him, to form one perfect Uber-Cat.

Nope.

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Haters gonna hate.

It was certainly not love at first site. Well, that’s not entirely true. For Berlioz, it was love at first site. For Wednesday, it was more like hate. For about a week, it was absolute torture. She hissed. She growled. She hid. But he kept coming back like nothing happened. He tried to love her. He tried to play with her. He thought they were best friends. I don’t know if she got tired of fighting, or actually found his persistence charming – but one day, without warning, she had a change of heart.

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Acceptance.

And best friends they became.

A cat has absolute emotional honesty. Human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.

— Ernest Hemmingway