Well, it finally happened. We all knew in our hearts that the peace could not last forever, but the shenanigans of the catnip incident Monday night gave the humans false hope.
At approximately 3:15 AM last night, Volde-Floyd began making power moves. Slithering into the master bedroom, he stealthily secured himself a position at elevation on the nightstand to the left of human number one’s head, and took a seat directly on top of Irish’s favorite perching item: human number one’s cell phone.
Instantly irate, Irish puffed up to her full volume (which is sizable when you take into account all of her fluff) and glared menacingly at Volde-Floyd from her sheepskin bed, located directly across the top of human number one’s slumbering head. Just to be sure that Volde-Floyd knew she was unhappy with his bold trespass, she swished her tail with agitation… three times… for good measure.
Volde-Floyd swished his tail back confidently and smiled. Cocky. Mischievous. Self assured in his horizontal-striped tank top.
Unable to maintain her composure in the face of such insolence, Irish stood up to her full height, arched her back and let out a soft hiss. It’s true what they say, she said, I am beautiful. I am tiny. I am feline perfection, but I am a god damned goddess with claws.
Unperturbed, Volde-Floyd rose up to match her and answered her hiss with a hiss of his own — louder — noting the overall manliness of the action with smug satisfaction. Roar on, tiny woman, he poked. I’m still going to take all of your favorite things.
Irish growled.
Volde-Floyd growled louder.
They both hiss-growl-hissed.
Human number one woke up, growled, swore, and shoved Volde-Floyd off of the nightstand. Laughing, Irish smugly began to knead her sheepskin bed.
“This isn’t over yet…” Floyd whispered as he slunk out of the room. He paused to look back when he reached the doorway, locking eyes with Irish. “This isn’t over at all…”
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