When Pigs Fly

While these two tolerate each other, and I use the term "tolerate" very loosely here, they've never had a relationship that involved this much trust. People, this is big. For those who haven't met the key players, allow me to introduce Willie and Molly. While they share an uncanny resemblance, they're only related by the bonds of adoption. In other words, we adopted sweet, stray Willie last July (as an outside mouser kitty only...ha!) and Molly has been wondering when the vagrant boy is going to leave. He comes in now and then (okay, 3 times a day) for lunchmeat snacks and naps on Dad's bed, but the boy fa-reaks when shown the litter box inside, so he can only stay in for so long. Imagine the confines of a proper litter box when the whole world had always been your litter box.

I digress.

So, they normally do a cursory once-over and sniff noses and then ignore each other. Lately though, Molly has taken to batting Willie in the face. And that doesn't go over so well. So, imagine my surprise when Dan brought Willie inside (people, it is COLD outside!) and he hopped up onto our bed to find Molly in his spot. I expected kitty fireworks, but instead got this: Utter and complete indifference.

Ummm, so not what I expected. He got busy chewing dirtclods from between his toes.

Not to be outdone, Molly decided a quick toe-clean was in order. Unreal.

Then, like men will do, he fell right to sleep. He's a funny guy. I think outside life is so stressful for him sometimes that when he comes inside, he's out like a light in mere minutes.

Molly's thinking, "Seriously? Dude, you're like, a foot away." He was unfazed.

So she gave in and fell asleep, too. They're still like this...an hour later.

When pigs fly. Go figure. =)