Drake, our white, stub-tailed kitty, (aka Anger-Management-Kitty) apparently will abide no fightin in his establishment. He was lounging by the pool this morning while the dogs were eating, when the dogs get in a fight over their food. Drake jumps up and runs TOWARD them, as if to break them up. The dogs had separated before he got there, but not before Phineas, the big dog (aka Security-Dog) got the advantage of Sam, the little dog (aka Whiney-Dog). No damage done, but Sam, his cheek firmly planted in Phineas’ mouth, duly screamed and yelped until released.
Excitement over, except, at this point Drake (who I should point out is noticably smaller than both dogs) MARCHES over to Phineas, gets right up in his face and does that hissing-spitty thing cats do when they wish to express extreme disapproval of the present situation. I’m pretty sure that if translated to English I would have heard him say “Bad dog!” Phineas, now simultaneously stunned and chastized, has nothing left to do but back up, turn, and walk away. I’m not sure about this, but I think I saw Sam smirk.
Afterwards Drake and I had a little conversation about the dangers of meddling in the affairs of dogs. Something along the lines of… Do not meddle in the affairs of cats, for they are subtle and quick to anger. Do not meddle in the affairs of dogs, for you are crunchy, and taste good with ketchup. Okay, so, that wasn’t exactly the conversation, but it was early, and my mind was still trying to work out whether Drake was incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid, or perhaps both. My only conclusion – sometimes there’s a fine line between brave and stupid.