Rocco is the porch king, the tom who can cut you dead with one fierce glare. All our feline visitors understand this. The dude is feared and respected.
Gaston and Greta still have (understatement alert!) a rocky relationship. The Amazing Bob has taken to hurling cups of water out the front door on the mornings when they’re outdoing Leontyne Price singing Aida. Naturally and hilariously, TAB’s drenched me a few times too as I’m usually sitting with G&G, optimistic dolt that I am, trying to calm them with requests for peace and calm spoken in soothing tones, chin skritches and treats.
So the G&G feuds have been more than enough but now, NOW, we’ve got a team, a squadron of antagonistic, selfishly opportunistic Blue Jays with a violent streak muscling in.
No seriously. I believe these new fellas are in no way related to our peace loving Blue Jay visitor, Siegfried, from last summer.
Yeah, they’re an attractive bunch. Sure. One of them has a bit of a Daniel Craig, or maybe it’s a Robert Downey Jr., thing going on.That’s NOT enough. They’ve got to play nice with the rest of our guests too. Do they? Fuck no!
TAB has witnessed The Blue Squadron swooping down on, dive bombing our poor Rocco! Apparently they’re immune to his lethal-ish glower-of-doom.
Rocco’s taken to cowering, COWERING! My poor, fierce, feral, jungle warrior cat has been forced to take cover, hide, under my Adirondack chair.
Gaston, The Yowl King, takes cover under Rocco’s bench.
This just won’t do. What’s a pair of animal doormats to do?
Clearly I need to bring out The Blue Jay Posse’s brekkie at the same time as the feral’s. We MUST have peace but I’ll settle for détente.
Sheesh, maybe I should hire a maître d’hôtel and start taking reservations.
