We were out of peanut butter, too.

The fluffy calico is lounging on the porch, wondering where the food is. The Tortie with the orange chest says, "You ate it all." Meanwhile the tortie who hisses all the time is hissing at the young tabby, who is trying to bop her. I arrive with four plates of cat food and a plate with peanut butter on rye. I am still wearing cat ears, a collar, and drawn-on whiskers. I say this is all the food for now because we're out unless they like peanut butter. The tortie flips out and gets caught in a scuffle with the fluffy calico yelling, "You took my man and ate all the food!" as I say "Wait!" and the little tabby leaps away yelling, "FIGHT!"

Cat fight! This was kind of the moment that started this whole bizarre arc. One afternoon I was having my daily dalliance with my tabby girlfriend when the “grown ups” totally started wrestling. I have no idea what it was about, but my little friend sprang out of my arms and away to safety. It was serious cat business, but adorably hilarious to watch.

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