Not my cat

The story goes that Rocky (my cat) was in a standoff with another cat in my backyard. Problem was at first I couldn't tell which cat was which. Another day I walked out to the partially open French doors and there was "Rocky" lounging on the deck, just 4 feet from the back door, and Sierra, relaxed and happy, in the doorway. Again, not Rocky. His eyes got big as saucers and he took off. We have nicknamed him "R.T." - for Rocky's Twin. Rocky calls him "R.E.T." for "Rocky's Evil Twin." He actually seems pretty sweet, but with a bad habit of marking "The Rock's" territory. Don't know who's cat he is... and I have no intention of making him my cat, although I do put a dish of water out for him.

R.T. - he likes to drink from the pond.

R.T. – by the driveway

The real Rocky – easy to tell – he's the one with bell and sweet face