I've two cats, one called Bala (above) and the other called Ian (below). Actually Ian was called 'Yi-En' by his previous owner, but being the English educated household we are (i.e. 'kantang'), and not wanting to have to fuss around with the proper han yu pin yin each time we wanted to call his name, we conveniently renamed him.
Both cats fight alot. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Bala (at 18 months) often picks fights with Ian (16 years). By often, I mean multiple times a day. In the cat world unfortunately, age does not automatically mean respect. (Although I suppose that can apply to the human world too.) Amazingly, no matter how many times Ian is attacked, he never bears a grudge and is always friendly towards Bala. In the cat world, that involves alot of butt sniffing, but I digress.
The silver lining on the cloud is that Ian seems to have gotten fitter and more nimble, more like a Muhammad Ali, and less like Homer Simpson. He epitomises the adage "what does not kill you only makes you stronger."