Cats

The fiancee moved in this week, requiring the first introduction between his cat and my cat. That was fun... I have the scratches to prove it. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and introducing them with his cat in his arms, the fiancee just put his cat down and called over my cat. My big tom cat understandably decides this cat is an intruder, must be dealt with immediately and attacks her. I have to intervene and pull him off. As soon as he realized she was supposed to be in the house, he proceeded to try to become friends with her and play. She still hates him and tries to attack him when he comes near her.
My cat is a friendly, five year old male and is used to living with another cat. His cat is a 2 year old female that hasn't been exposed to other cats at all. She is being a total bitch to my baby. Fine. I'll forgive her. She is frightened, in a new house and there is this huge cat trying to get her to play with him. I get the intimidation factor. Yet, this introduction has forced me to admit that deep down my cat is and always will be my favorite. Everything he does is adorable. Everything she does annoys me. Now these are just cats but when she glares at me or attacks my bare feet at night, I know she knows. She isn't my favorite. I don't love her nearly as much as my baby. Cats somehow just know. But these are just cats. Can you imagine raising a stepkid with your kids? That poor stepkid has got to know that she isn't as special to you as your own kids. Years of therapy probably don't heal those wounds. Maybe we will have to send the fiancee's cat to pet therapy. Or maybe a pet psychic. I've always wanted to meet a pet psychic.