But it really varies with each case. My two toms accept the three of our dogs, and even the Frenchy of my older step-son, without a problem. They sleep on the same pillow, the Newfoundland holds them down and grooms them while they head-butt her chin and purr, the Pyrenees serves as a towel when they come in wet, all kinds of things they do together, when it's just my animals.
Now the three belonging to <bleeep!> and co. are a different kettle of fish entirely. If they so much as stick a nose in the direction of one of the toms, well, hello bloody nose. At the very least.
That mostly applies to the two smaller ones, and in SPADES to the Russell Terrier. He was a cat-killer before he ever arrived, and almost the first thing he did when he got here was attack the cats. Managed to ambush Sully and nearly took his tail off. I was busy stitching that night, and if you ever want a challenge try sewing a cat up without anaesthetics.
Sully got his own back a couple of days later, when the ambush went the other way. I saw him clawing the back end of the terrier from one side of the yard to the other, and it's over half an acre back there. It's all in the surprise factor, who gets the jump on whom. (The cat masses about the same as the dog. He's a big boy.)
A year of aggressive training and the terrier now knows that cats are off-limits, and they can generally be in the same room in peace. Sort of an uneasy armed truce, but peace. It is getting better, I found the terrier asleep on our bed a couple weeks ago, and there was a cat reverse-curled against his back, also asleep. They even parted civilly when the dog got up and left the room, so things are improving on that front.
He still tends to do the terrier "CHASE IT! KILL IT!" thing if something (cat, another dog, bug, whatever) goes by in his peripheral vision, but that is not something I'm going to be able to get past. It's hard-wired into that pointy little head.
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