A Brother, A Sister and a Battle Royale 2/11/2024

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

In my home there currently rages a rather significant case of sibling rivalry. There is the mature and laid-back older brother versus the spunky and sometimes painfully juvenile younger sister.  I am forever bearing witness to the back-and-forth battle for affection and attention. I must admit that it is very entertaining and sometimes disconcerting. You learn a lot about personality by seeing how one interacts with their sibling especially when the two are very different.  Now you may find all of this sibling talk very ho-hum. I feel the need to make the topic a tad more interesting by stating the fact that there are, in fact, no “technical” siblings living in my house. The residents of my home are my small family of three; my husband, daughter and myself. The “siblings” come into play when I talk about the non-humans we live with.  We have Jasper, the handsome dark fellow with the golden eyes that has been with us for almost four years now and then, Poppy, the spunky little chocolate colored comet of teeth and tongue that is his “little sister” who has been with us only since May.  Yes, I have written about this canine and feline before but more so about their interactions with their human family, but I am learning more every day that the interspecies dynamic between these two is quite a tale to be told.

Initially Jasper was not a fan. This little noisy rat-looking thing we had brought home liked to chew on everything and he found the whole scenario completely disgusting. I won’t even go so far as to say he tolerated her. I suppose he gathered that if didn’t get rid of her after those first few very difficult and mildly traumatic few weeks then he’d probably better resign himself to her presence. But the thing is, in classic puppy nature, Poppy likes to chew. And when I say chew, yes, I mean the usual such as toys and the like but then the unusual like rocks, metal and much to all of our chagrin, apparently even cat heads (and I don’t mean biscuits) are not out of the question. I cannot count on both hands and feet at the time that I have watched that cat make the most disgusted face while little puppy teeth chomped on his head.  I don’t think she would use full bite force, but I don’t think she was particularly gentle either.  He is such a good sport about it. And she absolutely adores doing it every time she sees him in the same room. There are even the moments you think they’re going to have some gentle affectionate exchange.  Noses touch and everyone is being calm and suddenly she has to snap her teeth in the mix and it’s all over.  I feel somewhat certain that Jasper deserves sainthood in the context of the cat religious doctrines.

I don’t want you to misunderstand, however. You might be thinking that Poppy is just a baby and is up to typical mischievous puppy shenanigans. Well, she will be one year old next month, but she is by no means in the “she just doesn’t know any better” category. I say this because of something I accidentally witnessed only days ago.  I was minding my own business and heard the common gallop of eight paws through the house, four with heavy but soft thuds and the other four sliding all over the hickory floor with the added tippity-tap of toenails.  This does not cause me to even raise my head anymore. I heard the stampede was headed in my direction and as it neared me, making its loop around the house apparently, I began to hear all sorts of pained dog yelping along with the progression of thundering pawsteps. I think to myself that we must have a case in which Jasper has reached the limits of his tolerance levels and had to teach a lesson. Yes, I said he should be a cat saint. I did not say a cat martyr. One can only take so much.

But as the corner is turned with the two flying balls of fur, I observe something rather unexpected. Instead of seeing a wide-eyed, recently slapped Poppy being pursued I see the opposite. Jasper is up front with an Oscar worthy injured dog performance in hot pursuit behind him. This dog was screaming as if she was a victim of attempted murder while ferociously chasing her brother in the most blatant act of animal hypocrisy I may have ever witnessed. She was not expecting me to be there and when she saw me seeing her, she was suddenly quiet and casually stopped mid gallop and walked off as if she hadn’t been after him like a rabid cheetah only seconds before. I gave her quite the talking to shaming her for attempting to frame an innocent party. She chewed my pointed finger and rolled over to show me her belly while giving me side-eye. You see she is no clueless child. There is a fair amount of conniving between that one perky and one floppy ear.

I must clarify something though.  I think, in some strange way, they really do love each other. While Poppy is always wanting to play with Jasper, whether it be consensual or not, there is the rare occasion that the older more mature will every so casually invite the younger to play. It is an invitation she is all too willing to accept. There is often a point that the decision to offer said invitation is regretted, but still. I suppose they are like a good many siblings with, what isn’t necessarily a love/hate relationship but at least a love/but-you-get-on-my-nerves-terribly relationship.  I just enjoy getting to sit back and watch, well, watch and hope I don’t get caught in a toothy stampede.