Sasha, The Warrior!

(Graphite Drawings by Lee)

I have mentioned Sasha, my ginger cat, a few times in previous posts. He came into my life and I, into his, when I was married to Mervyn, my first husband. After Mervyn and I separated, I gained custody of Sasha. He, Sasha, became my shadow. Always by my side, he was my best buddy. A big ginger fellow with a proud demeanour, a snowy white chest and belly, he feared no one.

When I was moving from my flat in New Farm to my new abode at Toowong, he disappeared during the loading of my furniture and other odds and ends. I should not have been concerned as he was found curled up contentedly in the back of the removalists' truck, on top of one of the many cartons. He was ready to go, and I wasn't going any where without him. He made that perfectly clear.

A couple of years after settling into the apartment at Toowong, I adopted a kitten, Smocka. Smocka's mother had been dumped on the property when she was about due to give birth to her little furry family. I managed to give three of her four kittens away to friends, keeping one, Smocka, for myself. From the moment he opened his eyes, Smocka attached himself to me. There was no way I could bring myself to give him away. He was a dear, sweet-natured little fellow. His steely-blue coat and amber-green eyes betrayed perhaps some higher breeding in his genetics. I think his mother may have been playing around amongst the "upper-classes".

Sasha became Smocka's mentor. He protectively guarded Smocka and not once uttered a meow of dissent towards him.

One Saturday morning, I returned from shopping to find Smocka bailed up at my front screen door. At first I didn't see him in the shadows, having come from bright sunlight. However, I did at once see a white boxer dog, hair on end at my door. Once my eyes adjusted to the differing light, I saw Smocka frozen to the spot with the dog about an inch or two from him. I froze, too, not wanting to make a sudden move, believing all hell would break loose if I did so, and knowing Smocka would become the victim.

Fear took over my being as I stood there wondering what to do next to save my little mate. Then I noticed Sasha. Stealthily, all puffed up ready for battle, quietly he strode with determined intent across the yard at the rear of my apartment. I remained rooted to the spot, knowing Sasha had the matter under control. The albino boxer had no idea what was in store for him. He was too concentrated on Smocka to be aware of what was going on around him.

Proudly, I watched as Sasha approached the unwary dog. With one quick movement and a flash of claw, Sasha struck out at the unsuspecting dog. Sasha quickly followed with another massive blow to the dog's nose. The dog let out a couple of surprised, woeful cries and with blood pouring from his face he ran backwards. I immediately flew to the screen door, ushering Smocka inside. Sasha was prepared to continue the battle, but I picked him up and put him inside as well. I turned to chase the dog when it's owner, who was visiting the apartment block, came out to see what the turmoil was about.

Sneeringly, he looked at me and said, "My dog would have any cat for breakfast!"

He wasn't very smart in saying that to me, considering the mood I was in. I grew closer to him, looking him directly in the eye.

"If your dog had as much as touched a hair on my cat's body, it wouldn't be alive at this moment, of that you can be sure! It would've had to deal with me! And another thing, albino boxers are illegal. They are supposed to be put-down at birth. Secondly, you are a visitor to the property and dogs are not allowed, especially unleashed dogs, so I advise you to leave right this moment and take that mongrel with you before I report you both!"

The dog owner backed down without a further word. He and his dog left with their tails between their legs.

I was so proud of Sasha that day.