It's Friday night and all is well and quiet.  Fireplace is lit.  All the
kids are accounted for and are somewhere else.  Just us old folk, the cats
and the dog.

Molly is tucked into one of her favorite kitty beds.  She looks a little
extra fluffy, but hopefully its just her winter coat.  After a few cooler
evenings she has started coming in earlier and more willingly from her days
adventures.

Jake and Kayla have reached a stalemate.  Earlier they spent nearly half an
hour playing chicken.  Both of them know darn good and well the other isn't
going to hurt them.  Kayla has the advantage of size and speed.  As well as
youthful enthusiasm and a one track mind.  She doesn't have a mean bone in
her body.  Jake has the wisdom of age as well as the sharper teeth, claws
and a very good ability to hiss and growl.

Jake of course considers butt sniffing an invasion of his privacy, even if
he is standing still.  Kayla just thinks of it as a way of saying "howdy
partner"

And neither will give the other an inch.   It isn't like Jake doesn't have
3/4 of the house on the other side of the dog gate.  Finally Jake lay down
(he is not so patiently waiting for his evening shrimp to thaw).  Kayla
drummed up a game of catch the tennis ball.

All well and good, but Kayla cannot concentrate on both a tennis ball and
the location of the cat.  So she takes a shortcut across the arm on the sofa
and lands right on top of him.

Its ten minutes later.  Kayla has totally forgotten the scolding Charlie
gave her for jumping on top of the cat.  Jake has retired to the top of the
dinning room table to recollect his dignity.    You can see what he's
thinking.  "Isn't it bedtime for Kayla yet?"  He really likes to see her put
into her crate for the night.

Jo