Pet Wars

Since well before Jake the bad dog came on the scene, Nelson the neighbour cat has ruled the territory in front of my folks’ house. He used to enrage the dear departed Sheba with his lazy draping of the wall across the street, envoking much yapping and sharp barks from behind the sitting-room window.

Since Shebs’ demise, Nelson continues to inspect, control and patrol the small one-block street on which he lives with ever-increasing vigour. The bad dog Jake has pulled my daughter into the road while lungeing for Nelson, and indoors sits in his chair at street level, monitoring comings and goings on the street. Most of his phantom barking fits are provoked by Nelson’s fuck-you insouciant appearances through the window.

I’ve been driving over more frequently lately to pick up mum for hospital visits, and notice that Nelson’s previously substantial ego has now assumed Imperial proportions. On a visit last week, not only did He strut up to the car to inspect my papers when I parked, but he slipped in through the driver’s door, entered the back seat, made bread on the upholstery, circled three times and settled down for a snooze. He’s got some attitude, that cat.