Sam fends off the Evil Cat From Next Door, who persists in visiting despite the obvious lack of welcome . . .
Actually, the cat belongs to one of the neighbors, and he's probably a perfectly nice animal—in fact, he used to come over and sit companionably with Mr. Poozle on top of the truck, but Sam has decided that he is Satan incarnate and whenever the two of them meet there is a great deal of sound and fury (probably signifying nothing, but who knows?).
I have no idea what his name is, so we simply refer to him as The Joe Cat, as in "The Joe Cat is eating up all the catfood on the back porch again!" He's much larger than any of ours, even Mr. Poozle—Joe and his wife feed their animals very well indeed. They have two ancient golden retrievers; a youngish black lab is under the misapprehension that the road in front of their house belong to him and moves at the last possible moment with obvious reluctance when we have the temerity to want to actually drive on it (not to worry; it's possible to drive on our road at a blinding 15 mph if you don't mind having your teeth rattled and your head hitting the car ceiling from the bumps, but most of us creep along at a more sedate 5 mph or so); and at least four cats, all of whom are exceedingly wellfed. Only the one visits us, though, and he scarfs up anything edible whenever he does.
Unless The Mighty Sam, Defender of the Homeland, spots him first . . .