My Secret Diary

 

23rd March

 

At 11:50 AM Lucky, Snowball, several friends, and about eight other cats I barely know (but who somehow sensed the imminent bloodbath) gathered with me under the bushes and jostled for the best views into my neighbor’s garden.

At precisely midday Killer arrived and positioned himself in the middle of Brutus’ lawn. Snowball tittered and almost got us discovered. A few minutes later the door of the house opened and Brutus came charging out like a bull who had been seriously insulted about the size of his horns. Before either Killer or Brutus had the chance to work out what was going on they were tearing at each other with teeth and claws. The fighting was fast and furious. There was snarling and hissing and yelping. As they spun round and round on the ground lumps of fur flew into the air. On our side of the fence, fourteen little faces pressed against the woodwork to see this amazing fight. We hadn’t witnessed anything this exciting since Mohamed Ali-Cat knocked out Sunny Bright-Eyes Liston two years ago. By 12:20 PM it was over. Brutus and Killer lay on the grass - exhausted, aching, bleeding and duped. The fight was a draw but I was the winner.



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