I just had a fright of my life.
I've been told that dogs are known to kill out of jealousy. Apparently, cats do it too.
Indy sneaked out of the grille just now, when I was exiting the room. Vincent Starry was in the dining room and Indy attacked poor Vincent straight on, engaging him in a very fierce battle of the jaws. It was the "locked bodies" type of fight which I'm told can only be broken up by spraying water.
There was no water hose nearby as this was in the dining room, so I grabbed by water tumbler and poured water on Indy, but it wasn't enough to stop him. It only gave Vincent a split second break to flee towards the front door, but Indy gave chase and another fierce battle ensued just outside the front door.
I poured the rest of the water and had no choice but use my slipper to slap Indy out of his frenzied fury. It didn't work.
We know he is very jealous of Vincent. Maybe it is because Vincent is always inside the house and he loves to rub his body all over my legs. Whenever I come into the room, Indy would smell my legs and very often, bite me (though not hard).
Well, today, things just went out of control.
The fight was getting too intense, with bodies locked. No one was going to give in, so I forcibly grabbed Vincent (albeit the risk of having my flesh torn off by Indy) and quickly carried him into the kitchen. I did a quick check (not easy when you have a struggling cat who is so afraid, and Vincent is also packed with muscle). I found no wound. It's also hard to check when Vincent is a grey tabby. But before I could do more, Vincent struggled out of my arms and ran out.
Oh no! Indy is outside.
I ran out after Vincent, but he was gone. Out of the gate.
I quickly went to the patio and there was Indy. Tail all still fluffed up, sniffing at the pandan bush.
Timmy was at the patio and unharmed.
I didn't approach Indy as he was still very tense. So I stayed in the patio, eyes on Indy.
After awhile, Indy seemed to have calmed down, so I carried him back to the house. As I passed the front porch, Daffodil and Rosie came out from under the car. They must have sensed it is okay to come out.
I put Indy back into the room, checked him for wounds (there was none, but his white fur had a few blood stains) and went out to the road to look for Vincent.
Walked up and down calling his name, but I could not find him.
Cats...you will never be able to find them if they don't want you to.
I went back into the house. The whole front porch and our living room was full of fur. I swept the fur up and then went to the dining room to mop up the puddles of water on the floor. Then I went into the kitchen and saw more fur and two drops of blood.
Oh-oh...someone is wounded and it must be Vincent as I only carried Vincent into the room.
I went out to look for Vincent again.
No Vincent.
Sigh...there is nothing we can do in a situation such as this except to pray he is well and that he would come back for food later.
I wasted no time as it was already 4pm, so opened the doors to the patio from the dining room and made the clanging sound with their food bowls, hoping to draw Vincent back.
Still no Vincent, but Timmy, Daffi and Rosie were there and soon, Ginger came running back.
I went into the kitchen to replenish the food container and when I went out to the patio again....
Yay! Vincent was back!
Vincent was very hungry (which is a good sign) and everyone had their early dinner.
Vincent had three helpings.
I didn't see any drops on blood on the floor so I suppose the wound must have stopped bleeding.
I would check after he finished eating.
The blood couldn't have been from my hand.
I checked Vincent for wounds after he finished eating but could not find any.
He seemed alright, so I thought I'd just monitor him.
Back inside the room, Indy had calmed down.
We have two black-and-whites, and both seemed to still possess their primal killer instincts. Sigh...
I know jealousy kills, but what makes a cat jealous in the first place? A possessive nature, just like humans?
Don't look at me! I am not a killer. I'm just a big bully, that's all. I bully for fun...
And I'm Bunny-coloured, not black-and-white.
Something tells me we haven't seen the last of Indy's fury yet.
He's bent on getting Vincent and we have to keep the peace.
Sigh...
After half an hour, there was the sound of low growling at the patio. Oh no, now what?
Everything seemed fine.
Vincent was on his table (this used to be Indy's table back in the old house).
No change in Vincent's behaviour and I still could not find any wound on his body.
He seemed fine.
So I don't know who those two drops of blood belonged to. Maybe it was mine?
Vincent's friends seemed worried about him.
Don't worry, Vincent is okay.
I really, really hope Timmy will never have to endure the wrath of our killer-cats.
The poor boy is so trusting, he won't be able to fend for himself.
If you remember, Cow engaged Ginger in a locked-body battle and poor Ginger landed up with a course of 7 days of antibiotics.
Killer-cats, how do you tame them?
Note: Indy hasn't been eating any raw liver lately and in any case, I've stopped giving it to him a long time ago. In fact, I've stopped giving them raw meat.
