A Tale of Two Kitties

We've settled in nicely to our parent's basement apartment; our cat, however, has been a different story. Despite my mother and my fervent prayers that Whiskey and Sammy would get along, they continue to regard each other as mortal enemies. That translates into a lot of hissing, stalking, and general silent glaring whenever they encounter each other. So much for my image of them sleeping curled up together and stalking field-mice side by side. Oh well.

A few morning's ago Joel and I found Whiskey in a fair bit of pain and flinching whenever we touched her left side. A visit to the doctor and one very expensive radiograph later found no internal bleeding or broken bones (which would have suggested an encounter with a car), but they did discover a small puncture wound on her left side. It looks like she got into a fight. We're all trying to be very open-minded about this and give Sammy the benefit of the doubt (she's still refusing to confess, although I do remember her looking particularly smug the morning of the accident). Anyway, Whiskey's healing up just fine, and has even discovered a new favorite place to sleep.