Moron Cat Vs The Cat With No Name

Okay recently I was forced into accepting a stray cat into our household.  Pretty sure my arm was behind my back.  For some reason I made the mistake of feeding the cat from up the street, who looked anorexic, and the dinner bell rang for every stray within a mile, plus raccoons, possums, and possibly a few chubacabras visiting from the Caribbean.


Okay, who knew they make milk bones
for Chupacabras?

First came the Cat with No Name, a white with charcoal gray-spotted cat who we couldn't quite get a good look at the under the tail to determine the gender.  (Turns out he was a neutered male.)  Then there was a skinny cat with white socks who was all male.  (Not neutered, really not neutered.)  The one with the socks vanished.  (I don't think good things happened to him.)  Then another cat showed up, a black one with a white bib and paws.  He was horribly skinny.  He was also not neutered and very friendly.  So he got to go to the vet first.  Turns out he was sick with feline leukemia and worst of all, had no teeth in his upper jaw.  The vet said he'd had a hard life.  I take no joy in admitting that the best thing to do was to have him put down.  (I know people are going to hate me for it but we have a healthy cat and he's already gotten worms from one of the strays.  It's sad but we couldn't take care of the sick one.)

I am not a monster, I swear.

Since that cat had feline leukemia I thought for sure the Cat with No Name would have it too.  They'd been hanging out and sharing food bowls.  I had just got the cat to trust me when we dumped a towel over his head and shoved him into a cat carrier.  (Which is the sort of thing that happens on docks or at frat houses.  Sometimes at republican and democratic conventions, too.)

It turns out they make a lot of sad cat memes.

So after $250 later we found out that the CWNN was disease free but not very happy with the amount of needles that had gone into his butt.  HIM and Cressy both went on a shopping spree at Petsmart and the CWNN came home with us, rechristened Splotchy, because I don't get to name pets anymore.  (I wanted Dr. No or Sarcamanga or something cool like Goldfinger.)  Everyone was happy but me and the new cat.

Now I'm just getting silly.

Megaroy, the Moron Cat, was not pleased.  While it was great that cats hung out on the porch and gave him worms (True story.) it was not great that they came inside, inside his terra firma, his abode, his turf.  Splotchy went under a bed and stayed there for about two days.  Then he tore out all the berber rug in front of the bedroom door.  What fun and joy.  Then he realized the grub was free and the darkness under the bed wasn't so bad.  He came out, started exploring, and Megaroy was further alarmed.

The return of...da da dah...LadderCat.

Two weeks later and Megaroy has thawed out but is dismayed that Splotchy doesn't want to play let-me-bounce-you-into-the-floor and is not impressed by the sideways scamper.  Splotchy could also be known as the diagonal cat who longs to trip you while going up the stairs.  If your leg and his side aren't connected the universe is wrong.  This is a cat who is looking for a pet to happen.  He pretty much ignores everything but pets and food.  We might have to put him on a diet.

Yesterday cat WWWIII occurred.  Megaroy has decided that sniffing Splotchy's butt is the thing to do.  Splotchy has decided that he'll put up with it until he didn't.  Much bad language ensued with things like "Get your fricking nose out of my butt, diphose!" and "If your butt didn't smell so bad I wouldn't have to sniff it up, dingwa!"  And Splotchy has now conquered Megaroy in a display of street cat dominance that left Megaroy in the dirt.

Our house is never really boring.

And there he is...Splotchy.