It's a tortoiseshell mix with a whole lotta attitude.
I know it's got attitude because it squared up to Mary when we were out walking around the Churchyard ( yes I walk the dogs there daily as a protest to the uniform ban ) and a cat that will hold its ground against a dog of any size has balls.
Although Albert is a hunter, he is no fighter. His deformed back leg makes him slower and slightly ungainly at times and so when faced with a more determined assailant he usually decides that retreat is the order of the day and makes a bolt for the cat flap home.
This morning the fight with the tortoiseshell took a tern in Albert's favour.
After the dogs morning wee stop, Winnie, William and Mary went back up to bed as per usual. George disappeared into his bed underneath the kitchen table and leaving the back door open , I went to read the news on the toilet.
I'd only got to a juicy tidbit about Anthony Hopkins stating he should have been a Welsh drunk, when I heard Albert frantically bouncing up the stairs followed by a deafening howl from George which was followed by some very angry barking, a few bangs in the kitchen and the scrabbling of clawed feet on the coalbunker's wooden cover.
With my pants round my ankles I looked out of the window just in time to see the tortoishell streaking over next door's lawn as the rest of the dogs thundered down the stairs to join in with the chaos.
The tortoishell had seen his opportunity in finally cornering Albert and had chased him through the open door into the kitchen.
He hadn't banked on George lying quietly in his bed.
Now George is a typical Scottish Terrier. He has a big mouth and a stout heart and a strange cat, no matter how tough and streetwise is no match for him. And so , like old lions have to do sometime, George at twelve roared and roared his head off.
The tortoiseshell shat itself and after bouncing around the kitchen for a bit, legged it through the kitchen door and up over the coal bunker with George in close pursuit .
Albert rubbed my scabby knees with his head as the barking increased to fever pitch downstairs
Like nothing had happened