Pets are weird.
Most of you know of Dexter and Chloe, our two dachshunds, but we also have a cat names Nora. Nora is a cat and so is not the most personable of sorts (or felinable, I guess) and does not get along with anyone but my wife. (Nora predates me, for what it is worth.) She most certainly doesn't get along with the dogs, and both sets of species have wages a low-level war of annoyance between each other for years.
Well, I don't know if it's the weather or what, but things have...changed recently. Oh, they still hiss and bark and bat at each other like no one's business. But they've also engaged in mutual gatherings of relatively tranquility.
This all came to an awkward head about a week ago. The normal ritual is for the dogs to sleep in our bed for as long as they possibly can milk the sympathy, and then get taken downstairs so they can sleep in their creates where they can wrap themselves up in a blanket burrito.
Well, last week I did exactly that, and then went to bed. An hour later my wife wakes me up and tells me to come downstairs. As I stumbled downstairs and followed my wife, she pointed to the crate. Apparently, Nora had decided to sneak in a few winks in Dexter's crate. Nora is a black cat, so apparently in the middle of the night I didn't realize it and locked Nora and Dexter in the same crate.
Oddly, neither of them made too much of a fuss. It was Chloe, no doubt possessed by the green-eyed monster, who eventually barked enough to wake us up. In my mind, I'm pretty sure neither Nora nor Dexter really minded all that much.
Pets are weird.