My friend Mike visited from Indiana this past weekend, and his dog Maggie came with him. Maggie is a very sweet dog, who lives her life dominated by the cats she lives with, so what could go wrong? Surely our cats could handle this visit?
Mike arrived, Maggie in tow, and our elderly cat, Rufus glared and sauntered off. Okay, not so bad. Then Maggie turned toward the front parlor, and a great commotion was heard. Ember and Pumpernickel took one look at Maggie and decided she was not for them. Pumpernickel took off in a streak of white. Ember, on the other hand, had other ideas. She ran up the drapes as if they were flat on the ground, only stopping when she was hanging from the window trim eight feet off the floor. She hung up there hissing, even as I climbed, shoes on furniture and tried to rescue her from her perch. This scene ended with me pulling Ember and the drapes off the window, followed by Ember launching herself off my shoulder in a single leap that seemed to propel her from the front parlor to the back upstairs laundry, where she stayed, almost exclusively, for the duration of Mike and Maggie’s visit. This will be the event I think of, whenever I hear the Ghostbusters line about cats and dogs living together. It really is mass hysteria.