Captain and Stanley get along wonderfully. "Inseparable" is not too strong of a term. They stalk one another, chase each other, groom each other, and use one another for pillows at nap time. Sometimes they cooperate when attacking the fishing-pole toy, There's one that's got a long fuzzy cloth ribbon on the end, and sometimes they'll attack opposite ends of the ribbon so they can share the burden of "killing" their prey.

And yet, sibling rivalry still makes an appearance now and then. Take this morning. The cats stay in the basement during the workday -- there's plenty of room to play, and nothing for them to damage or get hurt on while Mark and I are at work. They spend the night down there, too, for the same reasons.

So this morning, I went down to check on them. I got greeted at the cellar door by Stanley, whom I picked up and doted on. He was all happy and purred away.

Captain happened along a few moments later, but my hands were already full, so his morning dote had to wait.

Now, normally, when one is carrying a cat and said kitty starts to look at the floor, that's their signal that they want to get down. So when I noticed Stanley looking down, I thought he wanted to be put back down.

Then I realized he WASN'T looking at the floor. He was looking at CAPTAIN. Stanley kept watching his brother to make sure Captain could see that he was getting cuddled and doted on.

I burst out laughing. :o)

And, of course, when I was finished fussing over Stanley, the next thing I did was scoop Captain up for HIS morning dote session.

Cats. LMHO. :o)