Two cats talking smack to each other right outside my window.
“Eyewitless news. It’s happening right now!”
I can see them. One is at the top of a fence, looking like some fat, ancient potentate; the other is on the ground looking up.
Neither seems to want to fight -just make comments- only “Yo momma” and volley them back as causally a tennis pro with a new, but able student.
Cat fights last, like… three seconds- usually.
Sadly, there is no slo-mo blo-by-blow, but it is over and everyone retreats to his or her friendly corner and then all is quiet.
It is far faster than watching a sumo match during which, if you sneeze, you might miss it.
So they’ve been going at it for five or six minutes, so I feel pretty safe in telling you that a fight (and then a typical eight or nine hour lull afterwards) is not in the offing.
So, it’s been a long week, and my bed is feeling pretty good, so I can give you good odds that I’m not going out to roust the trash talkers in my backyard. With that in mind I can only hope that they get to the end of the litany of insults –
“Your breath is so bad that your ass called and asked you not to lick it!”
-and go back to the neutral corners to sleep…or play a quiet game of five card Monty for bird parts.
Whichever.
I don’t care…
I’m so lucky.
