Fast Felines.

I spent the night on the tiles. Before you give me a funny look, I'll explain. I always spend the night on the tiles except when it's raining and they are slippery or when it's hot, as there are parts of me that I would not like to get burnt. I expect that you have guessed that I am a cat. I am pretty, with cream coloured fur with bits of ginger thrown in, pale green eyes and a bushy tail. My name is Tabitha. I share the roof top tiles with about a dozen other cats of various shapes, sizes and ages.

These roof top tiles belong to the houses that make up our village. It has everything that a village needs, a church, a market place, a small hotel, a couple of restaurants and one of those handy shops that sells everything. The village kids have a river to swim in, a school that teaches them whatever it is that kids need to learn and a playground to let off steam in. We even have a farm that is home to a herd of goats.

We are the village cats. We don't belong to anyone in particular but as we were all born here we are part of the village life. We get fed regularly, dishes of cat food appear on window ledges and doorsteps and we have found a way to squeeze into the building that houses the goats. This protects us from bad weather and the cold as the heat generated by a heard of goats is impressive.

"Right," I heard you say "it all sounds ideal but so what?"
"So what" happened early one morning. I had been snoozing on my favourite rooftop, the house just above one of the restaurants. I had half an eye open and both ears tuned to the sounds of possible breakfast when I caught sight of a movement. From where I was I had a clear view of the road that leads in to the village. It is just an ordinary road, nothing fancy, but on one side of it is a deep ditch, full of overgrown grass. The movement came from the ditch. The grasses in the ditch were waving, which was strange as there was no wind. I put myself in observation mode. The grasses were definitely moving and I could make out a hidden shape deep in the ditch. I felt something slip in beside me. I half turned and saw that it was Eph. Eph is an old cat, black and battle scarred, the hero of innumerable cat wars, with half an ear missing and parts of his body bald where no fur would ever grow again. From deep in his throat came the sound of a growl.
"What is it Eph?" I asked, flattening myself against the roof. We both looked carefully.There was not just one shape deep in the ditch but several. They all seemed to be following each other.
"It means war" said Eph scratching his remaining ear. I looked at him in amazement. The shapes stopped moving and the grasses grew still.
"They'll hide there for a while waiting for an opportunity to break cover."
"Who are they and what do they want?" I was puzzled.
"Cats from the next village. I had heard that there was a problem there. The old lady who looked after them was taken into a home. Perhaps no one has taken her place so they are on the move looking for food and shelter."

Sounds and smells of breakfast were beginning to fill the air. I twitched my nose appreciatively. Two dishes of cat food appeared on the window ledge below us. I started to climb down. Eph stopped me.
"We fight first and eat later."
"Fight? Me?" I was a decorative cat, certainly not a fighter!"
"We've got to impress on them that this is our village, thatn they are not welcome here and the only way to do it is by a show of strength. I'll round up the others." Eph slipped quietly away.

I stayed where I was filled with mixed emotions. I understood Eph's feeligs but I felt sorry for the other cats. So much so that I found I had lost my appetite. The movements in the ditch started again. Any minute now they would emerge, lean and mean and hungry. All our village cats would appear and battle would commence. I was not happy at all as I hate confrontation and this was likely to be a big fight. I heard Eph rou nding up the others. I continued to watch the ditch. Suddenly a head appeared striped in shades of brown, small pointed ears twitched, the eyes were watchful. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was Martha, one of our village cats, who had gone missing some time ago. No one knew why or where she had gone, but here she was back again. She emerged from the grasses and I saw thatn she was not alone, as behind her walked three kittens. I had to do something fast as behind me came the noise of cats scrabbling down the roofs.
"Stop!Stop the war!" I yelled just as the cats reached me.
"It's Martha!" Everyone skidded to a halt beside me and peered over the edge of the roof as Martha and her kittens entered the village heading for her usual feeding point. Everyone relaxed.
"Boy!" said Eph "that was close. Welcome back Martha, it's good to see you."

We never saw the cats from the other village. We heard on the feline grapevine that they had found someone to look after them. Feline life in our village went back to normal.