Street Smarts

The youngest kitten, usually a strutting and confident little thing, full of mischief and mayhem, cowers at the approach of the tabby. There is a moment of spitting and growling, both raise their hackles, then the little one abruptly turns tail and flees for the narrow space behind the stove. The tabby, as mild mannered and easy going a creature as I have ever known, flattens her ears down and gives chase but the kitten is faster and reaches safety with time to spare. The stand off continues for several minutes - loud but harmless - and finally I sweep the tabby up and deposit her in another room.

May I remind you, I tell her sternly, that you were once on the street yourself, six weeks old, homeless and unwanted. Have a little empathy. She glares at me. You don't have to like him, I continue, but mind me, you do have to stop being so mean to him. She is impassive, bored with this familiar lecture and paying no attention. With a careless flick of her tail, she dismisses me. Not a half hour later, they are at it again, this time she has cornered him behind the kitchen door and both are on their bellies, snarling and lashing out. This time, I snatch him and carry him out of harm's way. And don't kid yourself that I think you're completely innocent, I say sharply, You are a provocateur. He stares back at me innocently as if he doesn't understand what all the commotion is about. There is a touch of defiance in his eyes, a suggestion of swagger when he trots off.

Both he and the tabby spent the first weeks of their lives on the street. They adapted to scavenging, dodging traffic, and became street smart in the battle for survival, skills they no longer need but don't seem to want to let go. Each is independent and strong willed, tough as old boots and feisty. When it comes to territory, compromise is not in either of their natures - sharing anything is out of the question. It's a matter of chemistry, I suppose, they simply don't like each other and are drawn to expressing their opinions in strong terms, foul language and random violence.

The chemistry of cats may not be that far removed from the chemistry of the human species. There are no more than a handful of people I dislike for no reason at all - they have never harmed or bothered me, most I have had only the most superficial involvement with, but there is something I sense that sets off warning bells. Before a word has been spoken their faces have already told me Here is someone you do not wish to know. Perhaps the tabby sees this in the face of the kitten - perhaps the kitten knows this and tries to exploit it. Perhaps they are both following age old instincts and there is no explanation at all.

Whatever it is, both these little former orphans, for all their street smarts, will work it out on their own terms and in their own time, just as we all have to do.