I heard yowling out the front. I looked out. Mr Perkins and his nemesis, Mason, were having a stand-off on
Mr Perkins’ Mason’s turf. Then it turned to fisticuffs.
I thought I’d better do something. I went out, by which time a truck had come round the corner and stopped. The driver said something about the cats. I was so glad he had been going slow and had stopped. Some people go round there very fast.
I looked at the cats. They were in the road, glaring at each other.
I put my stern voice on. “Perkins.”
Hardly an ear twitch.
I went nearer and clapped my hands twice, quickly, loudly.
Both cats scarpered towards their respective territories.
The driver was grateful, and we waved at each other, then he drove off.
I went into the back garden and saw Mr Perkins standing there, swooping his tail.
I opened the back door. “In.” I still had my stern voice on. He came over, and I picked him up. He had tufts of Mason’s fur in his mouth.
When I put him down, he settled on the sofa as if nothing had happened.