pantryslut

What else is there to do on a lazy Columbus Day but contemplate inter-cat dynamics?

imnodandrei and I were thinking about how the interaction between Fritzi, our youngest cat, and Nadine, our middle cat (and my LJ namesake) resembled the relationship between my two younger sisters, Emma and Jill. Emma is eight years younger than Jill (and twenty years younger than I), but she used to regularly beat Jill up. Now Emma shows all signs of becoming a junior linebacker in build, mirroring the size disparity of Fritzi and Nadine -- Fritzi is younger, but bigger. Nadine is the petite cat.

OK, so far so good. Cats, sisters, it's all lining up, isn't it wonderful how the patterns of the universe repeat themselves, blah blah blah.

"I guess that makes me Morgan, then," I said, contemplating our elegant third cat (though first in the order-of-acquisition sense), the oldest of the bunch, perched upon the back of the sofa.

"Fat, low-energy, cranky, obsessed with food, loud..." I continued, and

imnotandrei looked singificantly at me.

A perfect match, I'm afraid. Of course, Morgan has her virtues, too, some of which I suspect I also share. (Except I can't hope to be as strikingly gorgeous as she.
She has the unfair advantage of being part-Siamese in this regard.)

P.S. for those of you who don't know, I have a brother, too -- he's the second-oldest kid in the family, and I love him very much. He just doesn't have a stand-for in this particular allegory.