A local cat, Daisy, age 9, began sharpening her claws in earnest earlier today as it became apparent to all concerned that the new puppy, AKA “The canine abomination from the smoking pit of Hades”, whose human name is the somewhat outrageous, anthropomorphic and decidedly embarrassing “Scooter the Patooter” would not be going anywhere anytime soon as was hoped in certain local cat circles, insiders report. (Editorial Note: Scooter the Patooter? Really? Really, he named that poor dog Scooter the Patooter? Oh the humanity!!! This country really is on the downward slide into cultural oblivion!)
“Well, when I got up and was fixing my morning coffee I heard a strange ripping noise from the den and immediately went to investigate” said Martin Robertson, age 49, (No relation to the Duck Dynasty Robertsons, by the way! Thank goodness for the Duck folks!) the unfortunate mental patient who coined the name “Scooter the Patooter” and also the dern fool who obviously enjoys playing with fire by mixing a horrific beagle puppy with a perfectly settled and wonderfully adjusted house cat who, quite frankly, just didn't need this level of “agro” in the twilight years of her most excellent and storied existence. “So anyway”, droned on Martin, who is obviously so intent on his own stupid story that he doesn't notice the hellish canine miscreant gnawing mercilessly on the cat’s now slobber sodden tail with those dagger-like puppy teeth, “the ripping sound was the cat giving the heretofore unused scratching post the sort of workout Joe Frasier gave the punching bag before fighting Ali in the “Thrilla in Manila”!! (Back before most of you were even born, darn your eyes!) "Daisy was sharpening her weapons of war to a degree not seen since the largely luckless Catholic knights honed their crude battle swords to razor-like perfection before marching off to be slaughtered by the nimble Saracen hoards in the oven-like Holy Land!” said the would-be scholar who should spend less time with his boozy, red-veined nose jammed into history books and more time watching that new hell-hound who obviously doesn't respect well-defined and reasonable cat-centric boundaries, for Pete’s sake!! (Editorial Note # 2: Okay, who in the world wears 100 pounds of metal armor when it is 120 degrees outside? I mean really! Was that ever a recipe for success? Come on! Who came up with that idea and why didn't at least one person say “Hey, wait... You do realize its hotter than blazes out there and our armor is made of metal, right? Hello!!!! How about if we dress like the locals and see how that goes for a while? Who is with me??” End Editorial note:)
“Well, normally there is a relatively brief yet intense adjustment period when animals, especially dogs and cats, are thrust together, but it usually sorts itself out in short order” said Dr. Jane Goodacre, the local vet. “Cats, with their ability to jump (if they aren't somewhat rotund like the above referenced Daisy! Whoa!) can usually get away from an overactive puppy until the novelty of a swishing tail somewhat abates” she said calmly, proving once again her excellent animal ”bedside manner”. “That claw sharpening business by the cat is just an outward manifestation of territorial behavior and really doesn't mean that much, not really” said the obviously biased canine-centric quack who won’t be sticking a thermometer up Daisy’s nether regions anytime soon after that callous remark, not if Daisy has any say in the matter, which she doesn't, being a cat who is unceremoniously crammed in a cat carrier once a year for that thankfully brief yet largely unwelcome”annual checkup with shots”! (Editorial Note # 3 - okay, this article is really beginning to run far afield from the interesting “New puppy/Existing cat” conflict situation! Reel it back in there a bit, would ya? Focus!!... Mental Note to Self: Might need to begin search for new reporter talent, pronto!!)
As of this writing, against all reason and decency and the logical separation of the species that has been a rule since Noah let all the animals on the Ark into their own enclosures and not some hippie-like communal "love'in" lodging scenario, both the long-suffering cat Daisy and the demented, wiggling, yapping hell-hound, Scooter the Patooter, were seen laying in the cat bed together, and if hideous and mind-boggling rumors are to be believed, Daisy was even seen cleaning the inside of Scooter the Patooter's ear as the would-be Hound of the Baskervilles lay on its back, tummy exposed, basking in the long overdue and much deserved feline attentions. (Editorial Note # 4: Before we are overwhelmed by hate mail from the Cat Fancy Fascists who are expressing their quite justified horror and indignation, please remember that we just report the facts here. Don't blame us... We are as shocked as you are, believe me! Thank you for your forbearance." End Editorial Note(s))
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