in which we discuss - territorial disputes.. "The Showdown"

See this blog? It's mine innit? That's why I really don't like it when I'm out securing my perimeters and Winnie hijacks it with gooey crap. She thought she'd got away with it. I have a chunk of fur in my paw that comes from where the scab is on her head right now, that would suggest otherwise. She's not the only cat who made that mistake with me. Softboy was sorting out his library the other day, and he has a load of Geoff Thompson books. Geoff Thompson should have been a cat, coz he's 'ard, but he'll snooze on his wife Sharon's lap too. While he was sorting the books out, he was listening again to the audio version of Geoff's first book "Watch my back". It was pucker, and I really enjoyed it. You can get it at www.geoffthompson.com Softboy trained a bit with Geoff earlier this year, but he's still a woose. Now me and Geoff, we have stuff in common. We can 'ave it, but we'd rather have a peaceful life. I've had battles too, so I thought I'd write about mine. There used to be a big white and grey moose-like critter that lived around here whose-name-what-they-called-him was Basil. He used to test my boundaries a lot. One day, he pushed the limits, and I unleashed all kinds of hell on his arse. It's known by all the other cats locally as "The showdown"..

I was up me shed. It's not much of a shed, but it's mine. It's my main watchtower, and it's where I watch from, which is why it's called a watchtower (that's for the dimmer ones amongst you). I had a feeling he was around, as the birds weren't singing, but the blackbird with all the gob was twitting fit to bust. I know it wasn't twitting at me coz I wasn't near where it keeps its nest. I dropped down to patrol the hole in the fence. Winnie was sat on the plastic box in the corner watching. She had on her grin that she wears when she thinks there's going to be a face-off. She just screams at other cats like a banshee on steroids, but I have to get in there and 'ave it, or they just come back too often.

I heard the bush outside the fence hole rustle, and knew it was him, because all the other cats duck underneath the scratchy bit but he just piles through. As soon as he came through the hole, my cover was blown as Winnie started yelling and growling. Thanks Win. Not. He saw me and I felt the adrenalin dump. As soon as it hit the pit of my stomach, I dived for him. I have this really cool reaping technique where I turn in mid air and catch his neck, then spin him over on to his back. It brings me up the other side of him and I go for the mount. As soon as I have the mount, I punch ten bells out of him and bite his throat. Except this time, I slipped, and he raked me with his back feet before I could get control. I bounced, half with shock, but half with amazing agility, because I am still Dan even when I miss the first time, alright?

I spun around so that I was over his head, and grabbed it with both hands. I went for the headlock and rake, and took half an ear. I know I connected, because he screeched louder than Winnie. Usually only a fire alarm klaxon does that. I went for his eyes, because he'd pissed me off, and I'd made up my mind he was going to be taught the mother of all lessons. He doubled up and got to his feet and tried to run. I wasn't having that. I took his back legs out, and was on his back chewing his neck before he knew what had hit him. I couldn't believe he was still screeching like a girl. He went down and I got him straight back into the headlock. He lost a bit of the other ear, and I rolled him. I don't like fighting from my back, but as he was so much bigger, I had room to rake his guts from his armpits to his willie, and I went for it - his willie that is, but it was too small and I missed. I created the first pink cat though, there was claret everywhere. He started hyperventilating, and I knew I had him.

I punched his lights nearly clean out, and split his lip whilst going for his eyes. He covered his head with his hands and turned away, and I went for his tail. I caught the base of it and curled by back feet in and underneath it, and raked all those tender pink bits a cat really don't want raked. Man you should have heard him squeal. I'm not ashamed to say it just turned me on, and I ripped so much fur off him the hedgepigs would be able to nest in a cat duvet. By this time, we'd rolled near the fence hole, and he managed to get up and go for it. He dived through, and I caught his back leg and chewed to the bone. I heard a crunch, and was surprised I came away with just a mouthful of blood. Then he was gone. I turned to look at Winnie, and I thought she'd seen a ghost. I realised I'd taken some collateral damage, but I didn't care. That's life. That's war.

It was just a week later that I went over to his house to finish what I'd started, because I knew if I didn't, he'd come back for another go, and I had to end this here. What I found blew me away. I saw him packing up a removal truck, and taking his whole family with him! I sat on the pavement where he could see me and watched, just to make sure. There they went, lock stock and barrel. One chicken-shit cat, forcing a whole family to move just because he was too pussy to 'ave it with me again. Sad. After they went, I kicked my way in through his flap, and checked the house. Empty. I left a message in every room, so that if he did bring them back, he'd know I was on it and would be back.

So here's the lesson. If you lot live near us, have a word with your cats not to bring it on with me, coz I can, and will, 'ave it big time - and you could well end up moving house. Know what I mean?