MasterB has relocated to the garden. I am listening for warcries. None so far. Thank goodness.
So now for some pictures of flowers.
Octavia was explaining MasterB’s new need to fight. When he first came to live with me, Sonny was the alpha male of the territory and MasterB was happy to go along with that. Maybe it even left him free to be friends with other cats. Sonny tolerated him and defended the patch from all comers, albeit with a little help from me and my water spray.
But Sonny has not been seen since 1st April 2013, and we have to presume he is dead. Even if he is alive, he is not in charge here anymore. So MasterB has to defend the garden, because he lives here. And it seems he has understood this far more quickly than I have.
The carefree days of his youth when he was free to be friendly to visiting Toms – vide Odysseus Ginger Biscuit, Now George of Kent – are over. There is no Sonny to sort the wheat from the chaff while MasterB watched excitedly from the wings. The whole responsibility rests on the Ginger Ninja’s shoulders.
And he’s not going to shirk it.
MasterB has grown up.