Murder by Death

We've had an addition to our household:

Meet Wasabi.  He's 12 years old and he belongs to very good friends of ours who have rented their house out on the hopes of traveling to the US this year so he (the husband, not the cat) can attend grad school.  They asked us if we would take him in for the next 2 years and neither my husband nor I even thought about saying no, even though we both knew full and well we were bringing wrath down upon our heads when our two spoiled-rotten fur-kids found out.  He arrived on Thursday.

And so it came to pass that we've been living in a war zone for the past three days.  Our days have been full of hissing, spitting, growling, screeching and this strange snuffle noise Wasabi makes that makes him sound like a pig rooting for truffles.  No contact as of yet, so we're counting ourselves lucky.  

 Carlito however, does not:

He's trying to scratch down the back door.  He managed to get out of the garden this morning and make a run for it, which makes me feel awful - our boy tried to run away from home!  So, no one goes outside for a bit until the worst of the warfare is over.

If Wasabi thinkis our cats are bad, wait until he meets the chickens!