The blue things in the middle are a towel and an ice pack that the cats like to be near when the weather is very hot. Tonight it's not very hot (just 79 degrees). The towel and ice pack mean nothing to this blurb. Tonight the large tomcat walks into the living room and his mother is there. She has no ovaries and his testicles are no doubt in a landfill out in South Dakota or somewhere. But they are cats with a bond that I will never understand.

They look at each other for maybe ten seconds and then charge. They hit each other head-on with claws out and fangs bared. They roll all over the floor with kicks and bites and lightning-fast moves and pounces and counter-attacks.

Somebody blows a whistle (it wasn't me and I never heard it). The cats stop fighting. With all the claws and teeth out nobody is bleeding or wounded. Mom begins to lick her son all over while he's lying down and he starts licking and grooming his mother's head since he knows that she can't reach the top of her head with her tongue. He's holding her head gently with his two front paws (claws in) when she's not licking his flanks and legs.

Then they go to sleep near each other. Watching cats is like watching a dice game you just do not understand.

I was off to bed when Sweet Babycakes showed up to snuggle with her brother. He was OK with the deal.

I ain't never going to know what goes on in those small cat heads.