DPM 31 – Kitty Chaos*

So… the peace was short lived.
 
Last night, Italics decided to establish his dominance.
 
The problem with that is, of course, that Italics has no claws, and Chester does.
 
It all started when Chester decided to try out Italics’ perch (his own personal sitting spot). Italics will generally even whack Bagheera if she is up there.
 
Anyway, Italics stared up at Chester on the perch, with this look on his face that—I swear to God—said, What in the holy hell are you doing? I don’t mind you, New Guy, but that’s my seat. Now move, buttwipe.
 
Chester didn’t move. At least, not for a good five minutes. I managed to smooth talk Italics with pets and “good boy’s” and “Mommy is so proud of you for sharing” and all the other positive re-enforcement crap our Cat Book thing said to do to help integrate. It was going really well.
 
Then, Chester got down. And Italics took his place on his perch.
 
I don’t know what happened after that. It was all a blur of hissing and flying cat fur and claws.
 
Italics went after Chester. Grant acted quickly to break up the fight, but didn’t know enough about cat fights (remember he’s only had cats for a year or so) to know that you can’t just pull them apart and let them go… so when he toss Italics aside, Italics ran around the chairs and went after Chester AGAIN. Most of the damage done to Italics was done the in the second round.
 
Establishing dominance.
 
That establishment cost him several gashes to his body and two sizable chunks from his right ear.
 
Chester escaped unscathed… of course, Chester really didn’t do anything wrong… he sat on Italics’ perch… that’s it.
 

Chester is such a wonderful kitty… he just had to defend himself against Italics.
 
Unfortunately, Italics didn’t understand that he was at a disadvantage.
 
Today, we leveled the playing field. Soft Paws for Chester and Bagheera (plastic tips on claws). If they want to fight, at least we can minimize the damage. So far, we’ve only had some minor growling and hissing – and mostly from Bagheera. Let’s hope the new year brings peaceful kitties!
 

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It has been discovered that Chester, henceforth known as Mr. Houdini-Pain-In-My-Ass-Kitty, was able to get 8 of the 10 Soft Paws off within 2 hours of us struggling to put them on him.

Now, if only Mr. Houdini-Pain-In-My-Ass-Kitty would learn to shoot fire from his ass when Italics chases him or Bagheera growls at him, we’d be well on the way to having a peaceful household. In the meantime, I have two defenseless kitties (Italics-declawed, and Bagheera-not a magician)… and a Mr. Houdini-Pain-In-My-Ass-Kitty.

In addition, Grant’s already toasted, I’m tired as hell (it’s only 9:20pm), and this year couldn’t have sucked more if God Himself had shoved a pine cone up my ass while striking me down with lightning. But I promised my husband I’d drink with him (in all our time together — which has actually not been much — we’ve never had the occasion to be toasted together… at the same time)… so instead of taking my unhappy, unjolly, fur-covered self (with remnants of glue from the Soft Paws still on MY hands, if not on Mr. Houdini-Pain-In-My-Ass-Kitty’s paws), I am going to go and try my best to do what I’ve been doing this whole freaking year. Smile, nod, and fake the shizzle out of it.

Wish me luck.