Another memoir from Sharples from his collection The Adventures of Sharples
One blisteringly hot June day a new face appeared on the street. He walked with an easy swagger of one who is used to the good things in life. He held his nose high and his aura declared he was a force to be reckoned with.
Sharples watched the stranger from his vantage point on the shed roof of Number 8. Not that he was a nosy cat but he liked to keep an eye on the goings on. The shed roof was a perfect spot to do just that and to take a little nap now and then. He was always discreet and chose it mingle with the clematis that climbed freely over the roof affording a cat of distinction such as Sharples some shelter from the elements.
As he half-dozing, half-watching the pathway he saw the pretty little lady cat from number 18 taking her stroll. Her bluish-grey fur reflected delicately in the sun as she made her way. The stranger started to follow her.
She disappeared into the garden of number 4. The stranger followed her. Seconds later the little grey cat ran out of the gate her hair on end. Sharples jumped down beside her.
The stranger reappeared and the grey cat coiled behind Sharples. The stranger ignored Sharples and moved in on her. Her fur raised even further until she looked like a powder puff as a deep growl echoed from her throat. Her message was clear she wanted nothing to do with the new cat on the block.
Sharples moved between them and howled warningly at the stranger.
There was a brief scuffle of claws and teeth accompanied by the ear piecing wails and squeals. The grey cat ran to the safety of her garden.
Later the stranger was seen limping further down the path his gait a lot less arrogant than before. Sharples watched from the shed roof – he had done his duty.
And the lady cat was telling all she could of the brave warrior, Sharples.
© JG Farmer 2014