Of Cat Politics, Sophie Scott and MasterB

MasterB and I were in the garden when Sophie Scott arrived. There had been An Altercation, and I was observing feline politics, ready to wade in if the Ginger Ninja looked like he was getting into trouble.
The new ginger and white had come the heavy on Sonny, and I had intervened. Sonny is our resident feral, and I’m not going to stand by and watch some bully-come-lately push him out. MasterB got quite excited, and seemed to think that if I could get involved, then so could he. My involvement stopped at chasing the bully away from Sonny. I did not attempt to follow him under my car and hiss at him.
The bully disdained a mere hiss and let rip one of those I’m-going-to-tear-your-head-off yowls that Cat used to specialise in. Much to my surprise, MasterB answered in kind. His tail swelled to alarming proportions and a huge ridge of fur rose up along his back. Just as in Cat’s day, the words “Vet Bills” rose before my eyes, and I scooped up my boy before any further exchange of menaces could result in flying fur. Academically, I should quite like to know how he would be in a fight. In reality, I want him to keep his claws clean.
There was no way he was going to come tamely indoors, so I stayed outside. By the time Sophie arrived, all was calm, and he was once more master of the demesne.

Sharpening His Claws, Another One for the Calendar?

He ran to meet her. He submitted to being picked up, cuddled and admired. He washed her hand thoroughly, purred his head off at her, played with the string she dangled for him, and scrutinised her boots with in-depth sniffing. He didn’t want to stay in for long though, so for most of the evening he was out and about.
I intended to see Sophie safely onto the bus. MasterB seemed to think he might come too. So we said goodbye in a side street and I led my boy back to safety.


23 thoughts on “Of Cat Politics, Sophie Scott and MasterB

  1. Love your tale. I never understand cat politics which seem even more involved and complicated than human ones – I didn’t think that was possible!
    Two of mine can spend the whole afternoon curled in each others arms in one of their beds, and then have a vicious and fur-flying spat in the yard later on.
    Like you, Vet’s Bills always loom large in my mind’s eye…
    I shout at them, but they usually regard me with disdain and do exactly what they were going to do anyway.

    • MasterB is usually the friendliest soul, but this cat, now nicknamed Flashman, seems to have got under his fur. He bumps noses with Sonny, who occasionally tells him off, looks as though he would like some adolescent chasing with Simba from across the road, and of course tries to get Ginger to play with him. Simba, mysteriously, is frightened of MasterB, and runs away if he sees him. He has nose to nose confrontations through the window with the pretty tortie, much to the amusement of her owners who see him most evenings on their window sill.

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