Tom: Squeak! Meow! (Hey! I’m visiting! Play nice!)
Franklin: MEOW! (Get the hell off my woman!)
Theresa: Shut the hell up, both of you!
Tom and Franklin: Groooowwwwwllllllll! (You stay out of this, woman.)
Franklin: Hisssssssss. (You better not touch her again.)
Tom: Meow! (What are ya’ gonna do about it, huh?)
Franklin: Meow! *takes swipe at Tom* (I’ll rip your head off, how about that?)
Tom: Squeak! (Oh.) Meow! (Well, in that case, I might as well enjoy life while I can!)
Franklin: Meow! (WTF?)
Tom: *jumps up on Theresa’s bed and starts nuzzling her*
Franklin: MEOW! (You BASTARD!) *jumps Franklin*
Tom: Meoowwwwww. (Haha, you can’t beat me, you spoiled city cat!)
Franklin: *takes a chunk out of Tom’s hide* Meow! (Oh really?)
Tom: Squeak! (Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!)
Franklin: Meow. *links Tom’s ear* (It’s okay, all is forgiven.)
Tom is the cat of a fellow PCV (soon to be RPCV). Turns out, my apartment isn’t big enough for two cats, certainly not two male cats, both of whom are attention and affection whores. Fan-fucking-tastic. Tom’ll be gone today or tomorrow, thank goodness, but I think Franklin’s going to be scarred for life. The two cats are actually getting along pretty well (they were adorable as they huddled together in fright during last night’s storm), but . . . they still have their moments when I want to fucking drown them both.