We are used to seeing El Gato Negro hanging around the yard during the holidays now, but the past two weekends some other cats have been coming through. Last weekend a fluffy black cat was staring back at me from just outside the dining room window, right up next to the house. It was almost Rose's twin, but the face was different -- beady yellow eyes and puffy cheeks. As soon as it saw me looking, it bolted.
This morning a large grey cat with white paws and muscular jaws walked through the yard. Nick was following him, and I realized this is what Nick does. He escorts visitors off the property. I saw him do it with EGN three weeks ago. We watched the grey cat walk slowly across the grass and behind a flower bed, with Nick following at a safe but purposeful distance.
Nick is not a fighter; he's a watch cat. This approach to guarding his territory is saving us hundreds of dollars in veterinary bills so far.
If it were Jeoffrey, our first male cat, he would pick a fight, disappear for a day, and then be off to the vet for a round of antibiotics. Jeff would stay outside all night from time to time to let the possums and raccoons know who's boss. We named him for the cat who kept Christopher Smart company in the asylum. Jeff had a white throat that gave him a Renaissance look. If he had an earring he could pass for a poet. Jeff was an undercover agent and a brawler. When he died during the hurricanes of 2004, every kind of animal moved into the yard, realizing he was no longer on patrol. The only foe he couldn't defeat was a Jack Russell terrier who turned from a chaser to a killer. Jeff had an enlarged heart that couldn't pump blood fast enough when he exerted himself; otherwise he could have outfought the terrier. We always suspected he would die fighting, and he did.
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