Gomez, aka "the stomach that walks" was a big, mean, fighting machine and weighed in at about 6kg.

The bunny, at about 500g, was cute and enthusiastic about the world, but not too bright.

When Gomez first encountered the bunny, he hisspitted. The bunny didn't care. The bunny sniffed at Gomez. Gomez turned on the "big tough cat" act and fluffed, put his ears down, turned sideways, and hisspitted some more. The bunny, oblivious to the danger, went around to sniff the other end of the big black hissing bit of furniture.

Gomez, seeing that the act wasn't working, took a swipe at the bunny. The bunny bounced out of the way, and continued to sniff. The bunny then turned tail, butt pointing right at Gomez, took one hop, and shook all four paws at poor Gomez.

I don't know what offended Gomez more - the bunny giving the greatest insult in cattish to him, or the four humans now helpless with laughter. Gomez slinked to his hidey corner, and refused to come out if the bunny was present.

It's a sad day for a cat when all of his bravado and cat-cool is deflated by a bunny, particularly the sort of bunny that discovers a whole new world every few minutes or so. Gomez's ego has never been quite the same, to which we are all eternally grateful.

Copyright © Vicky Chapman
September 5, 1998