The Cat Lazarus?

My three "outdoor" cats from left to right: Clarice, Felix and Puff, far right. Here they are waiting (to be fed) outside their very own abode, the Cat House (more about this later)

Another photo of my three outside cats. Puff, the huge black male is in the front

Tonight I just HAVE to write this post. It will appear on Thursday morning, but this strange thing happened on Wednesday.

In fact, it actually all began on Tuesday night.

As my husband and I were preparing for bed, we heard cats fighting outside our window. I turned on the outside security light, and sure enough, there was Puff, our huge black male cat having a face – off on the lawn with a huge, stray ginger cat. As mentioned before, I have eight cats, so as this ruckus was taking place, two other cats, Felix and Clarice, who live in their own luxury apartment (my husband's description of the humble cathouse I had built a year ago), appeared as if from nowhere and stood stiff-legged, bushy tails extended, and watched. Two cats who live in the sun porch/ entertainment area, jumped up onto the pool table and craned their necks to see what was going on outside. They also resembled stiff wire brushes. Manduline, our spoilt baby girl cat, was standing with her paws up on the windowsill watching from the safety of our bedroom with hubby behind her. The only two who were completely unaffected were Tigger and Pudding. They were fast asleep in my office.

While we watched, the two cats flew into each other, rolled out of the circle of light, and suddenly the ginger cat took flight with Puff in heavy pursuit.

I never gave the cats or cat fight another thought, until this morning when my gardeners called me to tell me they’d found a dead cat in the corner of the garden. I rushed across, and sure enough, there was my huge black Puff, lying under the bushes. Feeling sick with sorrow, I watched as the gardeners buried him and came indoors to tell my husband the sad news. He in turn, could not believe that the other cat had killed Puff. He said cats do not kill each other. Nevertheless, the black cat lying in the garden was dead and buried.

This evening I went to my spinning class and no sooner had I started to pedal, when my cell phone rang. It was my husband and as I answered it, he said: “Darling, are you sitting down?” (Do’h, I’m sitting on my spinning bike) He then told me that Puff had returned! Unbelievable. Puff was on the patio, socialising with the other cats and making his presence known. (Puff became Top Cat on the Block as Tigger moved into old age-mode)

When I arrived home at 7, there was Puff to greet me. I stroked him and spoke to him (Puff was ill-treated as a kitten, before he came to me so you cannot touch him or pick him up) and told him, I think we should call him Lazarus from now on!

A happy ending to a very strange day...

Oh and the cat that we buried? It must have also been a stray who became involved in the fight between Puff and the ginger cat and came off second best. Poor thing.