Plum and Dorothy have found themselves united lately against a certain chubby interloper new to our house. They will often play a rousing game of chase from first floor to attic and back--a game initiated by Plum, and not just ended by a paw swat by Plum--and the other day I caught them commiserating on the couch. Here they are, Plum cleaning a haunch and Dorothy a paw:
When hark! Both are interrupted in their cleaning by the squawk of a Tiny Terrorist, Mr. Owen:
Oh no! It sounds like the beginning of evening fussy time!