Cherokee is so bumfuzzled he doesn't know what to do.
Just now he was lying on the extended recliner footrest between my feet having a snooze. Suddenly there was a stir as Toby scrabbled over my leg and bit him on the tochis. That had the usual result, almost, as the cat drew back one hefty paw to give the little mutt his usual ration of negative attention.
Toby gave him this wide-eyed, innocent look and started grooming the pissed off pussy, licking and slurping the cat's back rather vigorously. Cherokee settled back down, but he had this long-suffering, slanty-eyed look he gets just before sampling a pup sandwich. Man, he was ticked.
The pooch kept licking and slobbering, and despite the fact he was grooming the fur backward and getting it all wet and sloppy, Cherokee put up with it, but just barely. He hates getting his fur stroked backward like that. Being soaked in puppy spit couldn't have been all that great, neither.
Apparently Toby was just getting him properly prepared, because he quickly sank his needle-sharp little chompers into the wettest place.
Simultaneously the cat screeched and drew back that mighty paw again, and Toby started grooming again. The paw stayed raised for a moment, then settled back down.
They played that game several times, until Cherokee had finally enjoyed all the grooming he could stand and stalked off to his food dish.
Meantime Patty is sprawled out next to me on the couch, lying on one side and engrossed in some TV show. About that time SOMEBODY on that end of the couch ripped out a good one, and Patty yelled at Maccabee to go outside, as if he were the guilty party. Toby, however, was not fooled; bounding over my leg, he raced to where Patty lay and began pawing at the source of the lingering aroma, causing Madame to sit bolt upright and push the pup away.
You can't fool a dachshund about a thing like that.