There was drama again at Ivan’s carpark.
We decided to go out later for the service and were treated to ring-side seats of the feuding stars.
In a replay of a phenomenon that seems in danger of becoming a regular feature, we hurried over when a hostile cat-squabble echoed. There was nothing on the ground floor and no sound by the time we entered the carpark.
btmao and I split up, as she hurried to the second floor and I was to make for the 3rd one. But on a hunch, I decided to comb the ground floor again. I followed the cat screams which have started again, and so through the wire meshing that covers part of each level, I caught sight of Ivan, completely against type, menacing Stanley from under a car. Stanley was about 1.5 metres or so away from him, right on the wire. He slowly made his way to a different part of the mesh in that typical cat stance meant to be unprovocative/submissive, and scrambled onto concrete. Ivan followed.
btmao managed to get between the two of them, and I met her outside the carpark on the ground floor, where Stanley was. btmao used food to lure Stanley away from the exit which Ivan would also use to get downstairs.
We ended up being the buffer to the terse situation. Ivan kept throwing verbal abuse at Stanley while the virile one was busy gobbling up food. Blocking his view, and reducing the visual sensory stimulus helped calm Ivan down somewhat.
But still, we had a few close shaves with Ivan trying to manoeuvre onto Stanley’s path. It was especially hair-trigger when Stanley refused to leave after eating and when he tried to re-enter the carpark, in plain view of Ivan.
Finally, we got Stanley going without incident. As usual, he trotted off in the same direction.
Ivan was obviously doing his job to keep Stanley out of his carbon monoxide laced kingdom. Stanley was just obviously adamant about access rights to the prime estate. Looking at how thin Stanley is, and he is that despite his great size, we believe it is the availability of food in the carpark that has him persistently mounting incursions. Once again, good karma feeders created a tense situation, though one which has not resulted in fatal outcomes so far.
By this time, Ivan was too full of machismo to eat, and Carlie was of course nowhere to be found, so we left the carpark and decided to do a bit of a walkabout. We thought the kitty drama was done for the night, week in fact. Little did we know… (to be con’t)