The Reader stood behind a tree and listened as Bubba spoke with two other people, one female and one male. The Reader was stunned to see that the male voice was not human but came from a river otter, and the female voice was from a bobcat. “Oh, come join the conversation,” Bubba said. “We were sharing the news of a family of Swamp Rabbits that have moved nearby.” Bubba sensed the Reader’s disbelief and asked, “Have you never listened to the animals around you? It is very possible. In fact, here’s a story about a dog and a cat and how they solved a common problem.”

Butch was a huge bulldog that ruled the backyard. His snarls, “humphs,” growls, and drooling face ran many a squirrel and bird to higher ground. He claimed that he was the emperor – well, at least of most of the backyard.

Kitty the cat was queen of the inside of the house and the patio where she curled up to take numerous naps during the day. She did not care if a squirrel or bird took food and water from Butch’s bowls by the edge of the patio, but God help them if they got near her bowls. Butch’s slobber in his water bowl made Kitty retch when she saw it.

Once Butch made the mistake of jumping on the patio for a drink but forgot to notice Kitty on her velvet pillow. Screeches, barks, yelps, hisses, and other horrid sounds were heard as the two were caught in a whirling tornado of fighting, flesh, fur, and fury. Butch gave as well as he took (unless one asked Kitty). She claimed victory. The hissing and growling and flying fur summoned their human pets outside to break up the fight of the century. Threats were made by human pets and ignored by animals.

On another day Kitty chased a squirrel from the patio into the yard. But in doing so, she leapt from the patio onto the back of a dozing Butch who was not happy to be awakened from a dream about finding a huge fireplug. Once again, the fur flew in several directions.

The next afternoon before she curled up on her velvet pillow, Kitty leaned over from the patio and spoke to Butch, “Truce?”

Butch yawned his cavernous mouth and replied, “Whadda want?” He suspected some kind of trickery but acted nonchalantly.

“We need to reach an agreement on boundaries, Biscuit Breath.”

Butch busied himself with a good scratch. “Okay, you stay in the house, and I will stay in the backyard. I’m glad we got that settled.” Butch rolled on his back to scratch areas he could not reach.

“Get serious, Drooling Dog,” Kitty said. “This fighting will get one of us either killed or sent to the animal shelter.”

The words ‘animal shelter’ made Butch freeze and grimace. “Ouch!” he grumbled. “What do you propose?”

“First, we call a cessation of all hostilities.”

“I have no idea what you just said,” Butch muttered with a scowl on his face.

“No more fighting, Snaggletooth. Now, see the clock on the patio wall? You may have the entire backyard undisturbed from sunup to 11:00 am. I will have the entire backyard undisturbed from 11:15 to 3:45. Then you may resume whatever you do until sunset.” Kitty produced a document stating those conditions and their paw prints acted as signatures.

The peace accord lasted for two weeks until that tragic day.

On that day, their human pets brought a pet carrier into the backyard and placed it under a shade tree. One of the human pets poured dried corn onto a tin plate while the other human pet opened the carrier’s door. Butch and Kitty crept closer to the tree, mesmerized by the event, but they both stopped when they heard flapping. Then they heard a low, almost hypnotic cackling as a strange animal stuck its head out.

Kitty and Butch both backpedaled a few steps.

“Butch and Kitty, say hello to Aseel!” one of the human pets said. “He will be living with us now!”

Aseel strutted around as chickens always do but kept a keen eye on the two animals that followed him at a safe distance. Aseel stopped and turned. “What? Is there a problem?” he asked.

“We’ve never seen anything like you before,” Kitty responded.

“Yeah, who are you and where are you from?” Butch added.

“You can call me Aseel or Asil or Asli – I don’t care. I am from Punjab, India. I have strong legs and neck unlike other chickens who are raised for eggs or eating. I have short and hard feathers. I have other characteristics we can discuss at another time. Right now, I want to stretch my legs, eat some corn, and drink some water.”

Butch announced, “I have the entire backyard undisturbed from sunup to 11:00 am.”

“I have the entire backyard undisturbed from 11:15 to 3:45,” said Kitty.

“Then I have the yard until sunset,” Butch concluded.

“Not anymore,” Aseel clucked as he jumped onto the patio and began drinking from Kitty’s water bowl. “I need fresh water. This tastes like a dog took a bath in it.”

Kitty shot a stare at Butch who became the picture of innocence and denial. Then she hissed, “That’s my bowl. Stay away or lose all your feathers.”

That was a mistake. Aseel roosters have been bred for centuries as fighting roosters. They are aggressive and will fight to the death if necessary. 

A low sound began as a clucking then became a growling and ended as a screeching shriek. Aseel’s wings were spread, feet extended forward, and claws ready to tear flesh. The battle was on.

When the human pets came running onto the patio, Kitty and Butch were two bloodied heaps in the grass and barely moving. Aseel was under the shade tree pecking contently at her dried corn.

One human pet was putting Band-Aids on Kitty and said, “If you two don’t stop fighting, you BOTH will end up in the animal shelter!” The other human pet agreed as he dabbed mercurochrome on open wounds as Butch twitched from the burning sensation of the antiseptic.

A dog and a cat lay moaning and groaning in a corner of the yard while a rooster drank water from Kitty’s bowl and pecked at food in Butch’s bowl. “We gotta do something!” Butch demanded. “We’ve lost our yard!”

“And a big fight,” Kitty added painfully. “How can a big dog and a mean cat lose a battle with a scrawny rooster? It was two against one, for Garfield’s sake!”

“What can we do? Surrender? Go live at the animal shelter?”

“We need reinforcements. Let’s get some help,” Kitty said as she struggled to stand.

“You mean like a fox or a coyote or a hawk?” asked Butch as he began licking where the mercurochrome was dabbed.

An evil smile spread across Kitty’s face as her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Oh, even better.”

FedEx delivered a package the next afternoon addressed to Katherine Catt. Butch helped open the box on the patio, then jumped back when he saw the contents. “My name is King Cobra, but just call me King,” he said as he slithered from the box and flicked his tongue in the air.

“Welcome, King,” Kitty said. “We need your help, but I’m not sure you are up to the task,” she said as a challenge as she winked at Butch. “If you can’t do the job, just say so. No hard feelings.”

King reared up, spread his hood, exposed his fangs, and hissed. “There is no challenge I cannot meet!” 

“There’s your challenge over there, under the shade tree eating dried corn,” Butch said.

“A chicken? You are afraid of a chicken?” King chuckled.

“It’s a fighting Aseel rooster.”

“Not for long. It will be my dinner,” King hissed as he slithered from the patio onto the grass.

Just before sunset, the human pets brought out clean water and food for Butch and Kitty. They searched for Aseel but only found feathers scattered across the yard. “I’ll check with the neighbors. Maybe they have seen our chicken.”

Kitty and Butch sat side-by-side on the patio – something they had never done before. They enjoyed the glow of the setting sun. Butch sighed as he said, “Our day has been saved.”

Kitty suddenly had a serious look on her face. “Yeah, but what do we do with King Cobra when he gets hungry?” She stood and quickly looked around her. “And where is he?”

Dear Reader: Have you ever heard a big bulldog whimper?