The grey one was minding her own business, dozing peacefully on the footrest of the recliner, all curled up and snuggly between my knees, until the black one crept beneath the chair and poked up at her through the gap between the foot rest and the chair seat. (Have I mention what a little thug he is?)  A brief but rather intense skirmish ensued, and the grey one klunked her head against the underside of the desk at least twice during the swat fight.  Once he was satisfied that he’d made a complete nuisance of himself, the black one ambled off and is now snoozing at the end of the filing cabinet where, if I get up from my desk, I will have to step over him.  I step over cats a lot.  When I’m not cleaning up after one end of them or the other, that is.

Things were not quiet for long, however. An irate rrrAWWrrrowling from up the hall, and a drum roll of cat paws on carpet indicate the black one has ambushed the white one (again) and is chasing him through the house.  The white one will end up on top of one of the extra dining room chairs set against the wall (where his flank will be protected), and will have to fend the black one off by swatting at him furiously.  This will last just long enough to leave the white one seething and lashing his tail in annoyance for the next ten minutes.  If this were a cartoon, the black one would now be strolling leisurely back up the hall, trailing a thought balloon that read, “Heh-heh-heh.”