There’s an encroacher alert in force in the Six Foot and the Ginge Club’s up and at ‘em. Pink’s been worried for days. She’s spent whole nights at the cat flap, watching for unauthorized ingress, and she’s been nagging Bamber and Alleycat to back her up. Black cats have been on the roof of Alleycat’s shed, and on his lawns, and in the night they’ve been staring at his front door, itching to get through to eat up his special costly food. It takes a lot to get Alleycat and Bamber out of bed early, but that’s exactly what they’ve been doing. Bamber’s had to increase his patrols of the perimeters and when I go into the garden he’s always on watch, prowling around, staring and watching the shadows. Often he scurries from one side of the car-port to the other, his paws like thunder, because he’s seen one of the encroachers down below. Woe to them is all I can say, if they meet Alleycat now. You can see by his expression he’s not best pleased. He’s even taken the spaniels into his confidence and co-opted Lucy to the cause; If Lucy hears him call she’s to come and back him up and drive the encroachers away for him.