Passive Aggressive and I Knew Something Was Going On…

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a34e86a6f3ed50f0cf40b463a388c8e0It was just too hilarious not to share.

As I said yesterday, Moon and Rupert have been hanging out in the room together, and of late, Moon has taken to hanging out in the other cat bed. So it’s been Moon in the orange bed and Rupert in the tan bed.

I got home from work yesterday and Moon was waiting for me at the door like he always does, so I went about getting everyone their evening tinned food. I feed them separately so that no one develops food issues, and with Rupert, I close the door to the room so that he doesn’t feel stalked while he is eating. Moon is a stalker.

So after about a half an hour, I went in to clean out Rupert’s litterbox and I found him in the orange bed, which I initially thought was sweet. You know: Sharing. Well Moon didn’t feel that way about it. At. All.

Moon had snuck up behind me, all stalkerish-like, and was so incensed when he saw that Rupert was in his bed that he walked up to Rupert and smacked him in the head. A good one too. That’s when I realized what was happening. It was the classic “You took my spot” scenario. Moon does this to my husband all the time, so a little payback was in order and kinda funny, but more importantly, Rupert was the aggressor here. He deliberately did what he did all premeditated and shit, because to him, both beds are his, in his room.

Now I didn’t get mad at Moon. He got his seat taken and he was just expressing his displeasure, but the interesting thing was that Rupert did what he did in the first place and that he didn’t cringe when Moon smacked him, as if he were telling Moon, “Yeah, I took your seat, so what. Smack me. I don’t give a shit. I can share too muthafucka.”

Moon sat in the middle of the room for a bit while he tried to get a grip on his confusion, then he went and got in the tan bed, which was closer to me anyway. It’s actually a good thing that they switch beds so that they can commingle scents. Group scent is important in cat society I’m told. This morning, all was back in order, and Rupert even ventured out of his bed for a drink while I was across the hall getting ready for work. With the bathroom door open. With the hairdryer at full blast. And in full view no less.

So Rupert’s doesn’t have to be a scaredy cat for the rest of his life. He’s got the brave muscle, and we just have to exercise it a bit more.

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