Otis, having dominated us so easily, now roams around hoping to establish himself as the alpha creature of the neighbourhood. He torments the dogs, has put the brute bully cats down the street in their place, and tries to mark his territory by tracking muddy feet through any open door.

Chester, on the other hand, is a big fluffy peacemaker. Neighbour feedback is that Chester goes over to "visit" their cats much as ladies get together for tea. He politely sits an appropriate distance away until the cats are comfortable with him and they have a nodding acquaintance thereafter. It's all very civilized. Chester is the Ghandi to Otis' Castro.

Our neighbour Corrine lets her little kitty, "Princess", out on a tether when she's home. Yesterday, little Princess was frolicking the backyard and had the good fortune to catch a bird. If Chester were there, I'm sure he'd have nodded his head and said, in his best Marlon Brando voice, "nice hunting little lady", and moved on. Unfortunately, the terminator (aka Otis) was there. As Corrine looked out the kitchen window, she saw Otis go all squirrly, puff up and do the sidewinder, and then take her little Princess' bird.

Just when we get neighbour relations repaired...

Copyright © Susan Mawdsley
March 10, 2001