The boys got into a nasty fight this morning, for no real reason. Mom left the room to get dressed for work and Wickett went under the computer desk, one of his favorite hidey-holes. (He's a vampire.)
Well, Mikey was in a snit for reasons known only to him.
So he sat next to the desk and growled. Wickett growled back.
This continued for a while, until, suddenly, Mikey pounced under the desk.
Nothing deterred them - not the promise of bones, not being sprayed with water, not being poked with a broom. And these idiots got caught up in the wires - Wickett had one on his neck, and Mikey had one on his paw.
Mikey had to be seqeuestered in Mom's room until his whining drove me up the wall. Wickett just owned the couch, as usual.
Both were overheated and soaking wet, but with spit and slobber, no blood.
Mom wanted them outside as soon as possible, they don't fight as much outside, and when they do, no wires to choke themselves on.
I had to bribe them out with a Hawaiian roll. It got Mikey and Dixie out, but Wickett didn't come out until he saw me giving them pieces. They each got 3.
This is their first big fight of the year, since they got neutered. Mikey's done some posturing and growling, but this was some scary shit. Wickett was screaming and it sounded like he couldn't breathe, but he was yelling at me within 10 minutes while Mom looked Mikey over behind closed doors.
This is what I saw when I took their water out.
(That's not a shadow, that's Wickett.)
My theory about the fights is that Mikey starts them. When he tries to start something, just growling at Wickett, oh man, Wickett starts yapping and Mikey starts shaking. Wickett's noise makes him the man of the house. (Alpha Dog goes to Dixie, naturally.)
He will not shut up. And he rarely goes hoarse.
Mikey often goes after him - this is not the first time a rumble has started under the computer desk. Mikey sticks his head in Wickett's space between the couch and the wall. He used to go in after him under Mom's bed all the time. However, he hasn't bothered him while he's under and behind the rocking chair in the dining room - yet.
Mikey's an idiot. He always loses, but he always starts them. Wickett provokes him by existing, I think.
They rarely play together - the closest they come is playing with Dixie at the same time. (Wickett at her ears, Mikey at her feet, gnawing on them.) Or this morning, 5 minutes before the shit hit the fan, Mikey was gnawing on Mom's fingers and wrist while she pet the increasingly spineless Wickett with her other hand.
Boys are crazy.