The Wild Bunch

Oh my.

This morning, I heard some of that caterwauling, that I know means cat confrontation, but as Ginger was inside I wasn't worried.

Minutes later I returned to the kitchen and saw a knock-down, drag-out, tooth-and-nail fight between little Blackie and bigger Blackie.

I stepped outside and said, "Oi! Kitties! Cut it out, no fighting!"

To my surprise, they stopped. There was a bit of a face-off, then bigger Blackie sloped off, as you can see on the right.

The other black and white, well, he came in to the garden just as I came out, perhaps to referee, or just to watch?

Another one came to watch but sensibly, stayed well out of it, good old Whitey.

As soon as he heard the kerfuffle he was there, observing from a distance.

Meanwhile, Ginger was inside, safe and sound.

I did go out again and comfort little Blackie, who is really a bit of a dear. I know Ginger doesn't like him but he's such a cute, funny and fiery little guy, and he loves having a look round in here, I can't neglect him. He was a bit muddy, but none the worse for wear.

Meantime Whitey came into the garden, to have a poke round the battlefield.

And then shortly after, he took the long walk down the right fence (has he done this before? He must have but I've never observed it) and we, well, we had a look at each other.

I love that guy. He's a real peace-loving cat. Never, if he can help it, gets into a fight. Not that I'm aware of, or at least, not on my patch ...

Thank goodness Ginger missed it all! I think it might have riled him up a bit much, as he can be a little bruiser too ...