It has been said by cat breeders, that an early sign of genetic collapse is when the mothering instinct is bread out.
Relatively early Saturday night, just before 10pm, with a little more human noise than usually, Ninja, Rusty, Rocky, Fireball, and I ventured out, across the street, and down the hill. We have about a 300 foot stretch of unusually green urban frontage, due to a setback requirement applied equally to apartments, and houses. Lots of grass, and trees, that cats run wild in, playing as if in a giant jungle gym obstacle course.
It is effectively our front yard, and everyone has walked with me fully around the block, and some even a bit beyond, so it's normal now for some to hang behind, while others venture farther out.
Fireball had decided to stay around the top of the block in a brick, and iron gated garden, and Ninja decided to stop about halfway down the hill at a 40 foot almost spherical tree with multiple large, low angle climbing branches, and dense leaves that effectively create its own ecosystem of crickets. Inside this foliage dome exists a different world.
Rusty, and Rocky continued to chase, and fight each other down about another 100 feet to almost the bottom of the hill.
That's where about a 30 pound raccoon emerged from the shadows.
Rusty, and Rocky were taking a bit of breather in front of a house where satellite imagery shows a small forest in the backyard. A little over 1000 square feet with 6 trees, one a 50 foot oak, the other a 100 foot redwood. It might as well be the wild Sierra Nevada back in there.
I have never in my life seen such a large, healthy raccoon, and he was very clearly making a territorial claim advance towards Rusty.
I immediately raised my voice, while remaining in calm, and friendly mode announcing to our local area, "wow, you're a biiiiiiigggg raccoony......" as I walked directly toward Rusty, and Rusty held is position.
Rocky was practicing the art of invisibility.
Before I could even say the word raccoony a second time, I see Ninja sprinting down the sidewalk towards us. She knew exactly what was happening, and had locked target on the raccoon before I could even say "Niiiiiiiiinjaaaaaaaa!!!!!!"
Ninja took about a 90 degree triangulated position relative to where Rusty and I were standing, and we both advanced toward the raccoon, at which point he turned, and did a slow retreat.
I encouraged everyone to leave with me, and Rocky immediately appeared, and started sprinting uphill, and so did Ninja.
But Rusty held his ground there for probably another minute before he continued up with us.
Balls.
Rusty is almost a 14 pound cat, and his lengthiness, and fluffiness make him look even bigger. Ninja is not even quite 8 pounds. But she lives in an awareness field a step ahead of reality, and routinely sizes up animals 3-4 times her size as inferior. I watch her stare down medium sized dogs as if they are prey animals.
In my mind, the boys have become The Queen's Guard, but she is still more Ninja than all of them.
The challenge to human mothers is some threats, often the worst threats, are not so obvious.
