Millie. Great Warrior Cat

She was not to engage with the filthy hordes of rats stealing the girls' feed. She was to harass and intimidate but Millie took it personally that  rats were invading her turf. And that meant war. She girded her loins, put on her battle face to confront the invasive army of rodents in the dead of night.

Millie! Great Warrior Cat. With the bluest of blue eyes, watched from the top of the hen house. Her coat of many colors reflected moonbeams that were transformed to a halo glow. Her tail flicked. She knew they were there--waiting--waiting until their sinister leader of Ratania would give the orders to march on the hen house.

Oh, if they only knew. If, by chance, a wandering possum or toad would have warned them in advance of the Great Warrior Cat perched on the wall of the hen house. But rats have no friends, not even possums and toads like the company of rats. Hags will tolerate rats to some degree, will use them for sinister plots but usually  rid of them in time with a puff of smoke. Hags love their toads and toads hate rats.

So does Millie. Her tail now flicks quickly at the end. Her eyes dead-on deep in the still of night. They open wide to absorb all light that comes, like a great telescope, her eyes peer into deep space, Millie sees and plots. There is no fear on her, only battle-tight fits her sinewy body. Millie! Great Warrior Cat, is about to proclaim Armageddon on Ratania.

The commander of Ratania sneers when his paw drops to signal the filthy hordes advance. Little do the hens know of what is about to happen. Asleep, the girls are dreaming of eggs to be laid, bugs to catch and fresh ripe corn. Millie is their shield. Great Warrior Cat is on watch.

The first come near to sniff, Great Warrior Cat stiffens for battle. Her breath held, she waits for the precise moment. The lookouts smell at the fence. There is food there, somewhere food is inside the hen's home. They take a step and then two. Others follow, the throng of varmints seep across the alley and canvass the shrubs and dark spaces.

Millie is on top watching, waiting and when the time is just right, when she knows their guard is down and the multitude is assembled. She pounces. Claws slip out in stiletto style. She rips and tears at the shrieking troops of gutter slum.

The rats of Ratania run amok, but some try to battle Great Warrior Cat. They fall like spent matches to the ground. One after another, Great Warrior Cat slashes and skitters the rodent filth. But one, one laying on its back, devious vermin that he was, waits for Great Warrior Cat to near and when she does, thrust is bony claw into her soft belly. Great Warrior Cat raises and looks at the prey beneath. With one swift swoop, her nails slice the rat into pieces that bleed the rat's last bit of life.

Great Warrior Cat looks at her belly, a small wound, some blood forms on her soft fur but Great Warrior Cat looks at her cut as a medal of victory for a night of celebration, dancing and drinking. Great Warrior Cat will tell her tale of valor with mug of brew and in good company.

Hail, Great Warrior Cat. Hail.