Our house seems to lie in the DMZ between the territories of two outdoor tomcats. There hasn't been a huge catfight in our front yard in a couple of years, and The Black Bastard (hereafter known as BB) is generally courteous enough to stay on the sidewalk when he's raiding The Orange Bastard's (OB's) turf. However, OB still wanders through our front and back yards with impunity, which drives our indoor cat (Hobbes, a.k.a. MY Bastard) crazy with territorial rage. (Alice appears to be content to let Hobbes do the snarling and tail-puffing, or, more likely, simply hasn't noticed there are other cats outside. She's kind of dim, is our Alice.)
So for the past several weeks, OB has been skulking around under the hedge, in the back yard, and occasionally even lurking in the front flowerbeds just under the window. Hobbes has been beside himself with rage, and I haven't been particularly happy about it either, partly because Hobbes is unhappy, partly because I don't want to find a bunch of cat crap in the flowerbed next spring when I plant a bunch of flowers. Unfortunately, I decided on this occasion to give OB a bit of a scare, wrenched open the front door, and hissed at him. Meanwhile, Hobbes launches himself out the front door at OB, chasing him into the neighbours' yard where there is a tense, yowling standoff of several minutes before Hobbes attacks again and OB flees up the street.
Hobbes went and hid out under the hedge until I finally coaxed him out with promises of cat treats and chicken. When I got him inside, he was limping slightly. He had a few minor scratches, but I think the main problem was that he's getting to be an old cat and he probably pulled something during the fight. So for the last few days I've been making a big fuss over him and giving him treats, carrying him to bed with me, and so on. S. points out that this is probably giving him the idea that getting into fights is a good idea.
On the upside, OB hasn't shown his face around here for over a week now.
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