Henry had his first fight today. Our neighbour uses the communal garden with her two Jack Russels every afternoon. She comes and rings our bell so that we make sure that Henry is either inside (aka: safe) or outside (aka: able to get away / hide) and that our doors leading in the garden are closed. We fear that the Jackies follow Henry in the house and corner him there.
This afternoon he was outside and next thing the neighbour rings and shows off Waltraud’s face (that’s the dog’s name, not the neighbour’s) featuring a bloody scratch under the eye. She told me to watch out for Henry, who after the fisticuffs ran away, and check him for injuries.
He’s come home, is slightly more cuddly than usual but otherwise unharmed. And he smells a bit … let’s just say the excitement must have loosened his bowels. He’s not as though yet as he likes to think.