Sooner or later it was bound to happen.
The ultimate match up.
Nature vs. Nurture
Man vs. Beast
Luke Skywalker vs. Darth Vader
Tom vs. Jerry
Picture the gunslingers. On each end of the street. Tumble weeds. Dust clouds. The barely audible sound of spurs clinking…The towns folk hiding behind the tattered curtains in the window of the General Store…
OR what really happened:
Following his liberation from the basement, Casper resigned himself to the fact that the dogs may be gone to the big pheasant hunt in the sky but he would have Carson to contend with. For about 2 weeks, they peacefully co-existed. Casper’s happiest moments were when Carson was 1) napping 2) not home or 3) in bed for the night.
It is a pretty even match up – both weighing about the same. You think I’m kidding. I’m not.
The other morning they were both under the dining room table. Carson had a two-handed death grip on Casper’s tail. And Casper did NOTHING. I mean, I think he was actually purring but I can’t prove it. I would pry Carson’s fingers from around his tail and the cat didn’t move. This was his chance…his window of opportunity to RUN. And what did he do? Rolled over and went back to sleep. Carson quickly got bored and moved on.
This morning, it started again. Casper walked over and plopped right in front of Carson. And with a squeal of pure delight, Carson did a full nelson (?). He was smothering the cat. And once again…the cat did NOTHING. I tried to break it up. But to no avail. Carson could not be persuaded to move and Casper wasn’t budging. I walked away. Like the momma lion in the jungle…I was going to let these cubs work it out among themselves.
Avery did show some concern after watching the ensuing battle for a few more minutes.
“Mommy mommy!!!! Carson pulled Casper’s tail and Casper did this (insert cross between gagging, spitting and hissing as interpreted by a 5 year old)”.
“It’s ok, honey. Casper won’t hurt him.”
Next sound I hear is a *FAKE* cry from Carson. He came into the kitchen with a pouty lip. I did not see any visible injuries. He must have figured that I did not have sympathy (which I did not) and he went back to the torture chamber (living room). In the time that he came into the kitchen and returned – the cat HAD NOT MOVED. Carson sat down next to him. THE CAT DID NOT MOVE. So I don’t feel bad for him. And I don’t feel bad for Carson. I tried to tell him no. I tried to move him. It seems they both want to play together, so far be it from me to come between these “frenmies”.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Although it may seem like I ambivalent about their interaction that is not the case. I closely monitor it so as not to warrant any trips to the vet or the hospital. While all of the facts stated here are true, it has been spun slightly for entertainment value. Kind of like the Kardashians or Real Housewives. But this is WAY more entertaining.