Only a few weeks ago, MasterB was scared to go into the garden in case he met Trevor, a skinny, injured and frightened stray cat who was sheltering between the binshed and the wall. Once Trevor had been relocated to a warm run at the cattery, MasterB made tentative and chaperoned steps outside again. Frankly, it has taken a while for him to regain his confidence. The girls have helped. Both Scally and Wags have been about and the three cats have been playing after dark.
So last night, MasterB was enjoying his evening constitutional outside, I was comfortably warm indoors, when I heard a loud cat cry. I went to my boy’s rescue only to see him chasing a strange cat across the garden and out through the gate. I followed at a distance, and after a minute or two he came home, tail hoisted like a feather duster. Boy, was he pleased with himself. He came in for about five minutes, but he could hardly wait to get outside again to enjoy his dominance of the space. The testosterone, normally not a noticeable part of his make up, had risen. He had discovered his inner Conan the Barbarian, and he seemed more than happy about it.
Hard to imagine when you see him looking sweet and innocent like this.
However, this might give you some idea.