Sworn Enemies
Id barely settled onto my bed for a nap when the deafening bark of my dog tore through the open window. Toby, usually the quiet type, seemed possessed todayhed been barking since dawn and not just barking, but working himself into a frenzy.
Several times, Id dashed out of the house to investigate, but the garden appeared as peaceful as evernothing suspicious, no sign of intruders.
I figured perhaps the neighbours dogs had wandered past, prompting Tobys aggressive outburst. Hes one of thosehates anyone trespassing near his patch. No wonder, really; the moment I stepped outside, the culprit was gone.
With Tobys thunderous bark, even the bravest soul would think twice. Likely, the neighbours dogs took flight at the sound, none the wiser that my bearmy affectionate nickname for Tobywas currently penned up in his kennel. I always kept him there during the day, just to be safe.
At night, though, Id let him roam free. As they sayat your own risk.
Once, three would-be thieves from the next village tried sneaking into my garden.
One lost his trousers, snagged up on the sharp spikes atop the gate. Another left a trainer behind beneath the fence. The third ended up scaling a treeright to the top. The local bobby had to call in the rescue team since the poor soul was too petrified to come down. Toby gave them all a fright theyd never forget.
And importantly, my dog never barked without good reason. But today, it felt like hed completely lost his composure.
Toby, thats enough! I shouted, rising and striding to the window.
He fell silent for a moment, then started up again, unstoppable.
With a sigh, I headed to the garden, determined to solve the mystery of what had got my hulking old English sheepdog so wound up.
As expected, the garden was empty. Toby quietened the instant he saw me.
Well then, whats all this fuss? I asked, grinning and leaning over his kennel.
Toby wagged furiously and gazed up at me with an apologetic look.
He knew, of course, hed interrupted my rest. But he never barked without cause. Now, he flicked his eyes toward the gate and resumed barking with gusto.
I twisted round and just caught sight of something grey and small darting across the path like greased lightning. I hurried over to the gate and stepped out onto the road.
Just a normal cat. That was all.
Yet the look on this cat was something elsecheeky, smug, absolutely self-assured.
And what are you doing here, mate? I chuckled. Let me give you some friendly advicedont linger round here. Toby doesnt have much patience for cats. If he catches you, well
The cat wrinkled his nose, and I swear he even smirked.
Catch me? his eyes seemed to say. Hell barely get out of his kennel before Im over the fence. Your fat dog needs less food.
I admit, the back-alley moggies silent, elegant insult to my dog stung a little.
Go on, then, I waved the cat off, turned back into the garden, and closed the gate.
Did the cat heed me? Not a chance. Instead, he started showing up every day.
Hed strut around the garden, sit coolly next to the kennel, making it obvious he was the master around hereand didnt give a toss for anyone else. Toby could only bark in protest.
At first, I tried chasing off the whiskered rascal, but as soon as I returned inside, the cat would reappear.
I was at a lossthere was nothing I could do.
After this small triumph, the cat really took his role as King of the Garden seriously.
One day, he even managed to swipe a chunk of meat from Tobys bowlwhich, might I add, sat inside the kennel. Toby lay in the corner, exhausted, barking meaninglessly, while the grey cat seized his chance.
Then he sat there, chewing the meat in full view, taunting Toby with every bite.
I saw the whole thing. A surge of indignation swept over me.
So thats how it is, eh? I muttered. Well, Ill show you! Youll regret messing with my dog.
I decided to leave the kennels door open during the dayToby could nudge it with his huge paw and rush out if needed.
Maybe then, hed restore some order around here, I thought.
I was worn out, Toby was worn out, and that cat had robbed us both of peace.
But on the day Toby and I eagerly anticipated our troublesome visitor, the grey cat didnt show.
Whether he sensed something or fate intervened, I dont know. I was disappointedmy cunning scheme wasted. The next dayno sign. Nor the third.
Toby gave me puzzled looks, and I just shrugged back. What could I say?
Maybe its for the best the cat doesnt come anymore? I smiled. Nice and quiet now.
Truthfully, though, it was a bit of a fib.
I missed the nuisance. Odd as it sounded, its true.
Toby was so used to barking at his sworn enemy, so used to being outraged by the cats antics.
Now? Dull.
After another few days, Toby started pleading silently for me to check the surroundings for the cat.
How did he ask? With a look. Hed approach, staring up at me, and I understood.
Think something happened to our grey rogue? I mused. With that attitude, he could easily get into trouble. All right, Tobylets check out the street, see if hes there.
I opened the gate, stepped onto the road, and paused beside my car, scanning both ways.
Toby followed, copying me, swinging his massive furry head from side to side.
He sniffed deeply, hoping to catch the oldand much-hatedscent of the cheeky cat.
But it was tough; the pungent whiff from the neighbours compost heap overpowered everything.
I walked the street up and down. No sign. Returned to the gate, ready to herd Toby back inside.
Really, we couldnt stand here all day hoping the cat whod upended our lives would appear.
Just as my hand touched the gate, I frozesomething strange nearby. I distinctly heard a frantic caterwaul and equally furious barking.
A minute later, a cat dashed into viewthe very same grey onelimping along the dusty road. Hot on his heels came a dog.
Not just any mutt, but an aristocratan urban Doberman.
I recognised the dogevery summer, sometimes even in winter, a family came from the city with their Doberman. The grey cat must have tried to rile this city slicker like he did Toby, but it hadnt gone to plan.
The Doberman had apparently bitten him; I noticed dark stains on the cats fur.
While I watched the running cat, I momentarily forgot Toby.
Unprompted and unhesitatingsomething hed never done beforeToby dashed toward the scene.
Toby! Where are you going?! I called, alarmed, fearing for the battered cat. The poor thing had already suffered at the Dobermans jawsnow mine would finish him off. Toby, stop!
But he paid me no heed, accelerating toward the petrified cat.
The cat saw Toby approaching and stopped dead, terrified, right in the middle of the road.
He must have realised his carefree days and healthy body were hanging by a threada mere whisker.
What happened next? You can guess. Only I was slow to catch on.
Toby halted beside the panic-stricken cat, sniffed him, then
then, letting out a mighty roar, he charged straight at the pursuing Doberman and chased him to the end of the street. The Dobermans quick reflexes saved himhe swiveled round, ears flat, and made a hasty retreat.
Otherwise, hed have come to real grief. There wasn’t a dog in the village who could best Toby.
The cat, taking advantage, slipped away unseen. I watched Toby and missed the moment the grey scamp fled. That evening, when I went outside to feed Toby, I nearly dropped the bowlthere was the cat. Alive, well, and utterly grateful. He rested his head on Tobys leg, purring away. Toby looked at me in such a way that I burst out laughing.
Sorry, boss, but I saved him, so now its my duty to watch over him for good, Tobys gaze seemed to say.
It was no joke.
Toby truly became his personal bodyguard.
He even let the cat eat from his disha generosity unheard of for such a stern, ever-scowling giant. But somehow, the grey cat melted his icy heart. They were no longer enemies but loyal friends.
Think thats the end? Not quite.
I took the cat with me to the city for the vet to examine the bite wound. It was serious and required stitching. After his surgery, the cat stayed with me.
I cared for himToby never took his worried eyes off him. Not long ago, theyd both have gladly torn him apart.
A few weeks later, a lovely young woman appeared at the gate.
Toby started to bark, but stopped, realising hed only frighten her, and offered a couple uncertain woofs. I heard and rushed outside.
G-g-good afternoon, I greeted the stranger. Can I help?
She asked if by any chance Id seen a grey cat around.
Or perhaps he wandered into your garden? Hes terribly cheeky, you see. Ive tried keeping him in, but my Tom always escapes and roams about until evening. In the city, he stayed in the flat, but Ive come here to look after my mum, whos convalescing after a stroke, and my cats gone wild. He never stays put. Usually, he returns, I clean him up, feed him, but hes been gone for days and Im at a loss.
I think I know where your Tom is, I smiled. Come on indont worry about the dog, he wont touch you. This way.
To your dog? Why?
Youll see in a moment.
She hesitated, but my honest, friendly face convinced her. When she got close to Toby and saw who was curled up next to him, she gasped.
Tom! How did you end up here? What happened? she exclaimed, noticing his bandaged leg and hip. She looked at me suspiciouslyDid your dog bite him?
No, not at all, I stammered. If anything, we rescued him.
From what?
If you have a minute, Ill tell you the whole tale. I think you’ll find it amusing.
I recounted everything to Emily (as we introduced ourselves), and she laughed till she cried.
Well, imagine thatmy cat caused you endless grief, yet you saved him!
Thats just how Toby and I aresoft-hearted, I replied with a smile. But you know, hes recovering now. Physically and emotionally. Now hes a darlingand no longer a pain to us.
He was always like that, honestly. Maybe its the fresh country air. Or perhaps hes upset I havent given him as much attention since Ive been caring for mum. Were teaching her to walk againits a slow process.
Do come round for a visit, if you like, I said shyly. Bring Tom too.
Ill consider it, Emily replied playfully.
Half a year later, the whole village celebrated our weddingmine and Emilys. Tom and Toby were there, naturally. Even that Doberman, the one who bit Toms leg, turned up.
He instantly recognised the grey cat and eyed him warily, but after catching Tobys gaze, pretended hed made a mistake.
And thats how it went.
