We have new neighbors, the nicest young couple, with two kitties, and a restraining order against Bootsie.
Well, I am almost sure that they don’t have one against him...yet.
But maybe they should, not that it would stop anything from happening. The problem is they let their cats out, and they are not supposed to do that. While neither are we, our Bootsie comes with a long past history of running free. And we can always claim that he is only visiting from across the street. Like he has been doing for the past four years.
He is obsessed with their two cats, going so far as to wait in front of their gated patio all day. Like a military General, he is mustering forces, going undercover, stalking them. Back and forth from our deck to theirs, tracking. Eyes wide open, pupils dilated in the twilight, to catch any movement.
The new cats cower in the corner of their patio, jostling for position closest to the door. Until one sacrifices itself and makes a desperate run for the garden.
Bootsie follows, oblivious to our pleas.
Crouching down outside walls, reconnoitering under shrubs, mission impossible, catch the kitties. Pounce, and yowl. Run, hide, scatter. Doors flying open, apologies all around, kitties being called home.
We are all living on edge, waiting for the next howl. and the only really good thing happening is he is losing weight from all the running back and forth.
Gar calls it his surveillance diet. He never sleeps, and forgets to eat. I am sure that will change soon.
Agent Jen, signing off.
Mission not accomplished.