Woody and Tails have been fighting in the house.
Tails doesn’t like people. Tails doesn’t like other cats. She never has. Tails sleeps during the day, all day long, and avoids people like the plague. But when the sun goes down, when the world goes still, in the dark she will wander the house and take a scratch to the ears.
Tails never liked the boys. Oh, she tolerated them, as long as they stayed out of her space and left her alone.
Woody, on the other hand, is a social butterfly. He likes people. He likes other cats. He likes to play. He likes to be frisky.
He and Leo would wrestle in the dining room, and then exhausted give each other baths. They would sleep together in a twisted bundle of yellow fur.
Leo’s gone. Woody can’t do that anymore.
He can’t wrestle with Tails. She screeches and howls whenever he’s near.
He can’t give Tails a bath. Again, screeching and howling.
And now Tails has decided that the food dish is her private property. She’s taken to camping out near it, so that Woody can’t come near.
And when I say near, I mean ten feet near.
He can be in another room, not even looking in the direction of the food dish, and she will began to wail and gnash teeth.
I hope this is only a phase.
Tails may be an antisocial bitch, but she still knows a change in the status quo when she feels one….
I’m sorry Leo’s gone. I hope some kind person found him, thought him lost, and has given him a loving home.