Fur Flying Fiasco

I enjoy being in my house and am thankful that I live here. I love the food, I like playing chase, there's lots of interesting stuff and the Old Guy gives a great scratch. However, there are a few things that I don't like. I don't like to be touched unless I have made a request to be touched. I don't like a lot of comotion. I refuse to be told what to do.

Last night Chow and I were kind of playing. At some point I lay down and Chow pounced. Now it's not unusual for Chow and Pinot to jump on each other and growl and hiss. They are clearly playing. I guess Chow thought I was Pinot or just got carried away. At the end of his pounce, he landed right on me. I reverted to feral cat and latched on to him to give him a good what for. Well when I did that, I think he figured he could do it too. I screached, Chow screached, I growled, Chow growled and we wrestled across the living room floor. Marina was standing right there and then she screached. I think she said something like Chow Mein's killing Minette. Ha Ha. No way. I can take care of myself. The Old Guy came running and I went running under the bed with Chow following up to the edge. The Old Guy barked at Chow and he ran away downstairs. The floor was covered with clumps of fur. The Old Guy is presently examining it to try to determine whose fur it is. It seems like cat fur, once removed from the cat, all blends in together, except for white fur. Later that night the Old Guy spread catnip all over the toys and busy kitty. Chow and I took turns rolling in it and playing with Barbie's head. But he never touched me.