Copy Cat
It was early. Too early for a summer morning when we didn't have to get up for school. I woke to what sounded like a low buzzing. My first thought was that a cell phone was vibrating. I opened my eyes and looked towards the dresser, where the phones were, but the only light in the room was what came peeking around the edges of the curtains from outside. It wasn't a phone. That was when I noticed the dark shapes by the doorway and realized that what I had taken for a buzz was actually a cat growling, deep in his throat. I sat up, and there was a sudden explosion as the growl escalated to a meow and something hit the dresser on its way out the door in a mad dash. What was that all about? Usually the cats get along pretty well together, and it is very rare for them to fight. Bewildered, I lay back down and tried to go back to sleep.
It was later in the morning, after I got up that I noticed the other cat hanging around the outside of the house, and looking in the windows. It didn't take much stretch of the imagination to figure he had gotten inside somehow and triggered the early morning fight. (Windows are open in the warm weather and cats have created holes in the screens that a cat could potentially squeeze through.)
A few hours later I was straightening my bedroom when I noticed the attentive stare of three orange cats towards my bedroom window. Pausing to listen, I could hear growling in stereo, two low pitched hums rising and sinking, like a police siren, but lower. I went outside and walked around the corner of the house, and there, on the sidewalk that runs between our condo and the one next to it, were two black cats. Ishmael, sleek and smooth, stood with his hackles raised. In front of him was his fluffier, scruffier doppelganger. The scruffier black cat looked at me, then slowly began to back away. Thinking this would make a great photo, I returned to the house to grab the camera, but by the time I returned outside, the scruffy cat had retreated behind a bush, and seeing me approach, dashed away. Ishmael lay calmly on the sidewalk watching, guarding his territory. This was his house, and he wasn't about to let his place here be taken by an imposter!
It was later in the morning, after I got up that I noticed the other cat hanging around the outside of the house, and looking in the windows. It didn't take much stretch of the imagination to figure he had gotten inside somehow and triggered the early morning fight. (Windows are open in the warm weather and cats have created holes in the screens that a cat could potentially squeeze through.)
A few hours later I was straightening my bedroom when I noticed the attentive stare of three orange cats towards my bedroom window. Pausing to listen, I could hear growling in stereo, two low pitched hums rising and sinking, like a police siren, but lower. I went outside and walked around the corner of the house, and there, on the sidewalk that runs between our condo and the one next to it, were two black cats. Ishmael, sleek and smooth, stood with his hackles raised. In front of him was his fluffier, scruffier doppelganger. The scruffier black cat looked at me, then slowly began to back away. Thinking this would make a great photo, I returned to the house to grab the camera, but by the time I returned outside, the scruffy cat had retreated behind a bush, and seeing me approach, dashed away. Ishmael lay calmly on the sidewalk watching, guarding his territory. This was his house, and he wasn't about to let his place here be taken by an imposter!
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