Carlito’s a pussy. Cat. Of course, I mean pussycat. But my mom’s cat, for being such a big, strapping, good-looking tom, is a bit girly. As I settle in, I thought Mom and I would be the ones bickering over territory. Turns out, it’s the animals having trouble with whose space is whose. Actually, there’s no squabbles going on there either. From the moment we moved in, it was clear – Bella’s the boss.
I was all set to feel bad for her, having to live with two males. No need. She’s a tough lady. She keeps both boys firmly in their place. Frankie’s always known where he stands with her. In the houeshold hierarchy, there’s Bella, then him, then me, then Carlito. Mom’s dead last. I fight a losing battle with Frankie for dominance, but Mom doesn’t even enter the ring. Or bother getting suited up. Actually, in Frankie’s eyes, I’m probably after Carlito. Which is pretty bad, cause as I said, he puts the pussy in pussycat.
He’s proof you can’t judge a book by its cover. I mean, he’s really quite strong and handsome. But then he follows my mom to the kitchen and lets out this pathetic little mew. I wouldn’t even call it a meow. It’s kittenish. And downright effeminate.
My mom says he has all sorts of childhood issues. She found him, homeless in Miami, the last of his littermates to be taken in. She says he was a big kitten, too large in fact, to still be at his mother’s nipple. But there he was. And there you have it. I think his problems began there.
Fast forward to present and Bella heads outside for her first stroll around the pool. The area outside the house has been Carlito’s territory. After all, she’s clearly an indoor girl, while he’s always been inside-outside. He meets her eyes briefly, then disappears, relinquishing any and all claims, while Bella schmoozes her way around the patio furniture. He loses inside too, but there I’m to blame — I’ve let Bella in Carlito’s space, but not the other way around.
So while Mom and I keep politely knocking or calling first, and the cats have worked out that what’s hers is hers and what’s his is hers, only Frankie has no boundaries. He barges in unexpectedly anytime he feels like it, through the doggy door I had put in. Bella sits and looks out, watching him mysteriously appear and disappear, but so far not figuring it out. Hey, I said she was bossy, not bright.