A few days ago, I took a break from my favorite job, master gardener at Lanthier Winery (check out the garden photo gallery) and heard a ruckus in the Loft Gallery. From the hisses, screams and rumbles I knew it was a cat fight. “Puss a roo” is our newest abandoned, rescued kitty; she arrived in the coldest days of winter and was leery of our staff despite the fact we are all animal lovers. Eventually we convinced her to come inside, which was a huge step because we were all tired of carrying food out in the middle of snow and sleet to a pathetic little calico who wouldn’t trust us, despite our heroic midwinter efforts. She’s a fierce little thing and stubborn too. But Lanthier Winery is pet friendly and my staff’s hearts too big to let any stray go unattended. We are after all a Humane Society sponsor and spay neuter hospitality site.
But back to the story: Jumping forward past spay day, heated bed and kitty treats it's fair to say “Puss a roo” is now right at home with Sir Gandloph the Greyford Lord of the kitchen window heated kitty box, Fraulein, aka Skanky aka Baby Girl- the winery’s first stray, feral cat who kept abandoning her kitties in the garden for me to bottle feed and of course our canine addition, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of her name lover of Milk bones, Queen of the Winery and customers, Khaleesi of the great daffodil sea, breaker of collars and mother of cats. We call her Khalessi or Puppy or for short. My point is it’s easy to see “Puss a roo” is not alone. Khalessi chases her around the garden; Gandolph gives her dirty looks but makes room if “Puss a roo” wants to share a snuggly bed by Sherry’s desk and Fraulein doesn’t mind sharing her afternoon back door snacks with “Puss.”
But something had gone wrong that day and the battle was indeed epic. Despite my yelling “Knock it off” as if I think cats really understand or even care what I have to say, the battle continued. There were sounds of a retreat, heavy paw thumbs echoed across the loft wooden floor as I overhead someone captured and beaten. A fur flying tumble ensued. I raced up the stairs to find clumps of cat hair littered everywhere and the guilty party standing with fluffy evidence in her mouth. Beneath a table cowered Fraulein who has to be no less than 12 years old but still tough as nails. I would have thought “Puss” would have backed off with the presence of the dominant female bearing down her, but that was not the case. What ensued was me chasing, hissing and yelling at her determined to demonstrate I was top girl.
Twenty minutes later and the staff wondering if I’d lost my mind hissing and growling at cat who ran for cover under tables, behind bottling lines and eventually to the production room storage loft behind 50 bazillion Christmas ornament tubs, I felt I had asserted my dominance and made it clear that if any female was going to take issue with another- it was going to be me who set all the other girls straight.
It must have worked, because 'Puss a roo' doesn’t chase Fraulein, nor try to beat her up anymore. I don’t have to run about hissing and growling and the staff seem more relaxed around me. My dominance has been restored.
