My family has two cats.

We had two old cats. We thought it would be a good idea to get a younger playmate to spice it up a bit. So we went to the pound and ended up with two brother kittens.

Life was good. We played with all the cats. The kittens helped exercise the old cats. The old cats beat the kittens up and taught them about the world. A pecking order was established and all the cats were happy.

Then the kittens grew. And they beat up the old cats. A new pecking order was established. Everyone adjusted.

The kittens grew fat and lazy. Being at the top of the totem poll left them slothful and they wanted more. So they started biting our family. We were not happy and expressed this displeasure to the cats.

The kittens retailiated with strategically placed feces bombs – in clothes baskets, bottom of the stairs, etc. Attempts at retraining ensued.

Kittens didn’t like retraining and spewed more bombs. Kittens went back to the pound.

My family has two cats.