This morning I was rudely awakened by vicious feline fighting sounds. I was not very inclined to get out of bed to find out who was involved, but I figured it out when Gracie, the alpha female, retreated to my side of the bed and Al, the whiner, was advancing slowly upon her.
I yelled, "Al," which was enough to stop him momentarily. But after a minute or two I heard hissing and knew they were back at it. I rose up on my elbow and hollered, "Al!" He retreated to another part of the house and began loudly whining as if to say, "Why do you always blame me?"
Well, Al, it seems whenever there's a serious disagreement among the three of y'all, you're involved. Gracie rarely moves from her perch on the back of the couch, so for her to be driven from it, it must have been something serious. I still don't know and I don't care, but it messed with the last precious hours of Monday morning sleep, which started my week off just dandy.