That's because it's what they are. Not fighting, exactly, but not making friends either. Meet Bertie, the black cat.
Bertie arrived yesterday evening, brought over to La Renaudière by our English friend Janet. Janet used to live in Saint-Aignan, just a mile or two down the road from us. Then she moved to a little town near Blois for a few years. We stayed in touch.
Now Janet is moving back to England, where she has a new job selling high-end properties in France to British buyers. And in the move, she decided to give us Bertie rather than going through all the red tape involved in moving an animal from France to England.
We hope Bertie will be an outdoor cat. Jan says he is a good hunter. Maybe he'll enjoy hunting moles in the back yard. Callie hasn't been any help in persuading the moles to go live somewhere else. There are at least three or four other cats in the hamlet for Bertie to get to know. Since he's been fixed, there shouldn't be too many problems. Bertie is five years old.
Right now, he is living in the utility room. I put some boards over the top of the laundry sink so that he can sit and look out the window into the back yard. Somewhere I read that cats like that; they start to familiarize themselves with their new environment that way.
If anybody has any good ideas about how you go about fostering friendship between a three-year-old border collie and a five-year-old tomcat, I'd love to hear them.