When cats experience friction for long enough, the result is an extended chase. In our house, that means hypersonic cats bombing up and down the stairs repeatedly, until just about all occupants go insane, pets and persons.
Watson—the consummate peacenik—did his best to referee these fights. At the first sounds of cats roaring around, Watson’s ears would stand up straight. As soon as the cat chase flew past him, he’d jump in and intercept the lead cat. Since that was the cat being chased, Watson’s intervention was not welcomed. Of course, the chasing cat didn’t much like finding a big dog in his way, either. So Watson would plop down on the floor, dejected, his ears drooped and head tipped to one side. He seemed puzzled that his brothers, as well as his persons, didn’t find his interventions helpful.
But at least he risked the effort. Every time.
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