These little hairy varmint critters never cease to entertain.
You might recall my installing a pet door in back a couple of weeks ago. Well, this bunch hasn't quite gotten the hang of it yet. The pet door is installed in the corner of the sliding screen door outside the sliding glass patio door. The pet door is plastic and kind of cloudy rather than clear. Unless they look carefully, they can't tell if the sliding glass door is open, and they're so close together they often bump heads trying to pass through. :-) Sometimes to save on air conditioning costs, I let them out, then close the inside door.
This morning I had the kids outside, the glass door closed, and the blinds pulled to one side so I could see when they wanted in. Cherokee was taking a leisurely stroll around the inside of the fence, surveying his domain and just enjoying the morning breeze.
Suddenly he was attacked from behind by a boisterous pup who thought Cherokee's tail made a fine chew toy. The cat replied with vigor and gave Toby a generous helping of the usual, whereupon the perp. . .er, pup, gave a yelp and made a mad dash for Poppa and safety, with Cherokee hot on his heels reinforcing the negative attention he so richly deserved. A cat's tail is useful for many things, but any critter who tries to use it for a play-pretty will get disabused of that notion in a heartbeat.
Toby made the turn on two wheels. . .er, paws, claws scrabbling for traction on the smooth cement. Cherokee was gaining. Pup slid into the fence, but gained a slight lead when Cherokee stopped to shake his head after colliding with said obstacle. Toby hit the flap on the pet door just as Cherokee sank his fangs into the pup's butt. That's when they discovered the inside door was closed. For a moment it looked as if the big cat was going shove his head up the old tailpipe and be wearing Toby for a collar. Sight and sound were similar to an accordion.
The flap pushed in just far enough for Toby to get his head in but not back out. The flap formed a wedge, firmly trapping the miscreant.
Cherokee knew who was to blame for his troubles. He backed off a couple of steps and just admired the view for a moment. The pup was stuck solid, his little butt stuck up in the air and his head trapped down low. I couldn't hear him with the door closed, but I bet the cat was purring. I could see him smiling. Leisurely he stuck out a paw and tapped Toby on the behind, just gauging distances, I assume. Then he drew back the other paw and swatted him hard. Toby yelped. Cherokee hit him again with the other paw, harder, and Toby yelped again. That was music to Cherokee's ears. He reared up on his hind legs and started batting the pup's tochis from side to side like Mike Tyson working on a punching bag. Toby was squealing like a pig caught under the gate.
When I could get my breath and move again, I opened the inner. Toby wasted no time in darting for his favorite hideout under the couch. Cherokee squatted on his haunches and started grooming his paws.
Justice had been served up nice and warm.