Lest you think we were being cruel and tormenting poor Beauregarde, consider this: every time we dragged the dogs off the squirrel and tried to get them inside, the goddamn baby rodent would chase after them, squeaking with fury at being ignored. “FEAR ME! I AM THE TERROR WHO CHITTERS IN THE BRANCHES!” Miss B would turn, her ears perking, but Odd, enchanted with his new friend, would inevitably be quicker off the mark, scuttling back to lubricate the arboreal rodent with excited bulldog slather. Poor Miss B, torn between obeying the human and mothering the strange new furry thing, began shaking nervously, and as usual when she feels uncertain, or she feels her place in the pack is in any kind of question, she reverted to, um…
…well, she reverted to dominance-humping. She never tries it on a human, or on a cat, but she does climb on Odd’s back and…yeah. You get the idea. So we had an unholy conga line of Beauregarde being licked by Odd, who was, erm, mounted by Miss B.
At this point I was perilously close to giving up, and Tarzan was laughing so hard he couldn’t get a picture, which is probably best for all concerned.
ME: Can we just all calm down and–
BEAUREGARDE: ACK! *splutter* I AM THE TERROR–*splutter*–HALT, VILLAIN! STAND AND DO BATTLE!
ODD: NEWFRIEND! NEWFRIEND! TASTYNEWFRIEND! *fartwhistlesnortfartwhistlelick*
MISS B: *dominance mounting*
ME: Oh, for GOD’S SAKE!
TARZAN: *hysterically laughing*
BEAUREGARDE: FEAR NOT! I AM A DOUGHTY WARRIOR AND–ulp!
It was then that the Mad Tortie, hearing a ruckus in the heart of her territory, slunk through a hole in the back fence to see what the hell was happening. I caught sight of her shouldering her way through the grass, ears perked and bright interest written in her every graceful, predatory line. I inhaled, ready to shout, but then Beauregarde, covered in doggy saliva and vociferously damning both canines to the lowest ranks of serfdom, saw her.
That’s when things got interesting.
…To Be Continued…