|Will they EVER get along?!|
So half-way through their dinner last night I opened up the door all the way and Miss Tasha (aka "Big Momma") strolled on in. Zayn (the smart one) was already a safe distance away from her up on the dresser. But, Bear (the brawler), had to be a little tough guy and stand his ground. Tasha got him backed into a corner and the stand off began. They stared at each other for what felt like 5 hours, but was really probably more like a minute, and then it happened. I don't know who struck who first, but all 5 pounds of Bear was going up against 12+ pounds of Tasha and it wasn't pretty. It was an all out FIGHT and Tasha was screaming her head off as she tried to claw the shit out of Bear.
Bear got a couple of swipes in before dashing underneath the dresser and that's where his little size worked to his advantage because Tasha couldn't fit under there. Instead, she just kept swiping her paws under the dresser, hoping to strike fur. Mike , who HATES these kind of situations, looked at me and said, "I don't know what to do," so I grabbed a blanket, wrapped up my screaming, hissing cat, and flung her ass out of the room and shut the door.
Then Mike and I looked at each other as the realization set in that we now have a crazed cat on the other side of the door and we're basically trapped like rats. We sat in the room with the kitties until Bear would come out from under the dresser. I think he was a little ticked that Zayn had not helped him, but, like I said, Zayn is the smart one and probably thought, "Hell no! That bitch is CRAZY! I'm sitting my ass up on the dresser until she's gone." Which is exactly what he did.
Mike braved going out the door first, but Tasha had already gone downstairs at that point and was back to her normal self. I continued to play with the kitties until Bear showed no more signs of PTTS (Post Traumatic Tasha Syndrome). So now we are back to square one. Sigh, can't we all just get along?!