Every night after work, as I pull into my driveway, I am greeted by my two cats, Gilda and Maggie.
Now, I love my kitties. And they say nice things about me ("Love" would be too strong a word for these girls). But these cats can't stand eachother. They've shared a household for 3 1/2 years and they still can't pass one another without a hiss and a swat. They are still struggling to determine who's boss, and I don't see any end in sight.
I've had Gilda (the tabby) since she was a kitten. I got her from my dearest friend, Robyn, for my 39th birthday. Maggie actually belongs to Andy, and joined our household not too long after Andy and I started out together.
Neither cat is particularly affectionate, especially when the weather's hot and they don't need to snuggle me to get warm. I rather like it when the nights turn cold and Gilda burrows under the covers and curls against me to sleep at night. I know it's not about her actually loving me--it's just about being comfortable. But, hey, I could say the same for many human relationships, right?
Maggie snuggles rarely, and only on Andy. She's great at it, though, complete with the ecstatic expressions and the claws digging deliriously into poor Andy's chest.
Maggie is an expert huntress, having presented me with a wide variety of treats like mice, voles, birds, bunnies, and cicadas.
Gilda's specialty seems to be depositing inordinate amounts of cat hair all over my house. She kills an occasional bird to keep up appearances.
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