The current state of detente between Bob and Mort is improving. There was no Christmas miracle, so Enola_Gay, I’m afraid I’ll be sending you an invoice for emotional distress. Lately, I’ve been feeding Mort at the top of his stairs, right on the other side of the cat door, so that’s where he’s been spending a lot of time when Bob’s loose. Bob will poke his head in once in a while and Mort bobs and weaves (no pun intended) but doesn’t freak out. Mort has been venturing onto Bob’s side of the the cat door more and more. Mort has slept with me the last two nights … and that is awesome. I missed that so much - though it was a little more fraught than it use to be what with Bob figuring it out and wanting to sniff him to death at 2:30 in the morning (thanks Bob).
At any rate, the following picture is not an uncommon situation the boys find themselves in:
