Remember Snowball, the cat I accidentally and with no malice stole from my neighbor, the cop? Turns out I needn't have worried that Snowball would cease to exist in my life. As fate would have it, the furry little bugger camps out on our back porch daily.
This causes immense dismay to Lucy, our eldest cat. Lucy hates cats. All cats. Frankly, we're not quite sure she recognizes herself as one of the species. If she ever pays attention when she passes a mirror, she's in for a nasty shock.
When Snowball appears at the screen door, Lucy launches an all out attack. Back arched, hissing, growling, swatting and charging at the screen, giving out prolonged growls... this is one fired up cat.
Not that it matters in the least to Snowball. Lucy outweighs him by a good ten pounds but he seems to recognize she can't get at him and presses his nose up to the screen as he looks in and mows. As I sit upstairs typing this, I can in fact hear him at the back door like a low-level siren: "Moooowww. Mrrrooooooow. Mmmmmmmoooooowwwww...." Thank God I didn't keep him. I can't fathom having two cats in the house that never shut up.
Olivia slinks to a corner of the sofa and ignores them both.
My poor Lucy. I don't want to close Snowball out, nor do I want to deny my cats fresh air which is why I open the door in the first place. I'm trying to hug and love on Lucy when Snowball is around so she associates him with good things.
Given the blood she's drawn from me, we have some work left in this area.
Hugs to you and your cats.