Peace Talks

All of six inches high and weighing maybe half a pound, the new kitten feints a charge on the small brown dog - it's a bluff, a show of bravado and he stops a safe distance away, looking tough and pleased with himself. A yelp of fear emanates from the dog and she immediately begins to tremble and climbs into my arms where she clings and buries her face in my neck. I comfort her and scold him while the black dog circles, menace in her low growl and anxiety in her eyes. The kitten, undeterred, makes a second pass, this time jumping over my outstretched legs then digging in with a ferocious hiss at the black dog, followed by a nasty and contemptuous spit. He then beats a hasty retreat to a corner of the couch and sits atop a pillow, again looking self satisfied and defiant. We have, I realize, an attitude problem here, one that will have to be corrected before he is turned into a late night snack. You came from the wild, I remind him sternly, meeting his steady blue eyed stare with what I mean to be utter seriousness, And back to the wild you can go. Of course, this is a meaningless exchange, a hollow threat, and I suspect we both know it. I am older, wiser, I outweigh him and have the power of reasoning on my side - yet somehow he still gains the upper hand - he pretends to ignore me and wanders off toward the food bowl, a tiny, strutting little creature that a strong wind would blow away and already feisty, cocky, and fiercely independent.
This will be a protracted battle and I am poorly armed.

I like to think that there is a little feral in all of us, just enough to make us strong and confident. I also like to think we'll outgrow the need for it once we become strong and confident but kittens don't always play by the rules.

Several days in there are signs of hope - the black dog has backed off a trifle although still succumbing to her instinct to chase, the small brown one appears a tiny bit less terrified. All the cats are eating together without bloodshed and an alliance of sorts has formed between the second new kitten and the first - the rules seem to be to chase each other through the house as madly, as fast, and as often as possible, flying around corners and under or over furniture as the terrain demands. If one actually catches the other, there is a brief ( and usually loud ) squabble before it all starts again. The adult cats take a non-combatant position, preferring to watch from a safe distance, taking no sides and wisely staying out of the fray.

Escalation of hostilities has ceased and peace talks are ongoing.