I stand corrected. Our barn cats are not pussies, as I had implied in a recent post. Apparently, they are protective of their turf.
Not only is the yellow cat, who intruded into the barn, nowhere around, but a second stranger was driven away. Of course, it was two against one. They stood united.
What happened is that Sugar heard something on our porch. She turned on the light and found a cat on the railing. It looked like Simba, aka Camo. Turns out it was not. It was yet another cat. A big one. It allowed her to pet it and to confirm its maleness. Then she heard threatening meows and growls below the porch. They came from our cats, who were displeased by having a visitor. Definitely unhospitable.
We later heard the sounds of a cat fight, like one might hear in an alley at night, out by the garbage cans. We don’t have an alley, nor alley cats, but barn cats make the same noises when in conflict.
The visitor was so big that we feared we might find our smaller kitties dead or injured in the morning. Not so, thankfully. In the morning they greeted us unwounded and, more importantly, alive.
We will call that a victory for the home team. Way to go Camo and Jigsy! Teamwork paid off. Let the word go out amongst the local animals that our cats should be feared. Pussy cats no more, they are ferocious felines — kings of our jungle.
The badasses! Beware.