The Pink Panther movies, especially those with Peter Sellers, were always good escapism, but I always thought Inspector Clouseau's housekeeper, Kato, was just a bit hard to believe. Imagine hiring someone who attacks the man of the house, by surprise. Sure, maybe someone like that would keep you on your toes or be a companion, but I always thought it was just a little too much cinematic fantasy. That was until I met Stubbs and Dub.

As butlers, they looked the part. Their appearance was always that sharp contrast between black and white. I don't think I ever saw them any other way. Their black, silky coats contrasted with the white chests. The white on their hands and feet gave each a formal look. The only real difference was that Mr. Dub sported the full tail while Mr. Stubbs opted for the short style.

When our car would pull into the driveway, often they would would be waiting at the door. I guess my first surprise was that they never opened the door for me. They would greet me at the door, acknowledge my arrival and continue their vigil as if they were waiting for someone else.

I never really felt a need for these two, but it was my daughter who brought them into our household. She said they needed a home and so she offered them ours &emdash; without even asking. I was at a convention in Portland, and my wife doesn't know how to say no. By the time I got home, they had already moved into their niche. I said we would give them a chance, but I had my doubts.

They had been in house for just over a week when my concern heightened. This time when the car rolled up, the butlers weren't standing at their usual attention. No, instead I saw them glaring at each other. They would face-off until some mysterious force triggered them to charge, usually causing the other to turn and roll with the assault. After a brief scuffle, they would break and go back to they eye-to-eye pre-attack posture. Not being one to jump into a physical foray, I stood back to observe the battle. To my amazement, they did not seem to be angry at each other. It was just some type of friendly contest. But they didn't worry about changing to appropriate attire. Still in their silky black and white outfits, they would continue to throw themselves at each other. Often a puff of dust would rise from the scuffle as they rolled through the garden transition area. Then, without a word, they separated. I don't remember which one, both Mr. Stubbs and Mr. Dub looked more alike than they did different. Still, I remember them separating, and without a word, one took off around the corner of the estate.

When I related the incident to my wife, she just looked amused and continued reading her book. My daughter, Margaret, went to look outside to see if the contest had resumed, but she reported the battling butlers had apparently backed away from this round.

Nothing could have prepared me for the next outrageous act. This time it was Mr. Stubbs working solo. I was returning from work in the late afternoon with two arm loads of work. Mr. Stubbs was again ever vigilant by the door, and again made no indication he intended to do anything even when he saw me struggling with my awkward bundles. He watched with a suspicious nonchalance while I approached the door. Seeing no aid coming, I began to set my valise and other packages down so I could fish for my keys. When I finally got the door open, I bent over to pick up my things &emdash; then he attacked.

First, I was surprised and shocked at the effrontery. But then I began to feel his nails digging into my shoulder. Anger began to well up as I fought to get him off my back. Reaching back I clawed at the assailant and brushed him off. But, before I could get my things and escape through the door, he resumed the assault. Again, there seemed no malice in the attack. It was obviously just the afternoon foray that had become a part of their behavior. But today, apparently Mr. Dub was tending to duties elsewhere, so Mr. Stubbs decided he would have a go at me instead.

Without sympathy or support from my family after the assault, I knew I was either going to have to leave the family or learn to live with the battling butlers. For reasons too complicated to explain, I decided to continue their room and board. Now when I come home, instead of the relief of concluding a hectic day at work, a new anxierty arises when the car rolls up the driveway and I see them at the front doorway &emdash; silent and poised.

I wondered what I should do. The rest of the family would kill me if I released the butlers who seem ill-inclined to do any butlering. The other side of the equation now has included me in the role of victim in my own house. I shouldn't have to put up with this type of abuse. We've had cats before, but never a tandem pair like these two. And Mr. Stubbs has been given a new name. Cato seemed appropriate.