It didn't sound like a pony though.
I heard dogs, woke and dashed to shoo them away. My Bubba-cat and Michael-cat refuse to sleep indoors at present. They spend the whole night whinging, howling and scratching at the door if I attempt it.
Bubba-cat is old and smart and doesn't run, but Michael-cat is a runner and if you are a cat and you run then the dogs will chase.
So I race outside in my sleeping atire of raggedy shorts and tank top, poor unsupported breasts bouncing more than is comfortable or dignified, and out the gate to the desserted house next door where my cats sleep on the top step, and there it was ...
It was good I'd thought to turn on the carport light, else I'd not have seen it and kept going. It was standing so still and intent - not staring at the cat. It was staring at me. It was going to go me. It wanted too. You could see it in it's stance.
Once I'd noticed it and stopped, it growled a little. Very softly.
When cats are in danger my normal fear of dogs recedes. I've dived in before when a large dog with a jaw like a rottweiller was attacking a beautiful old ginger cat near my sisters house in Sydney, but my brain still works to some degree. So I went off to grab the hose. Damn thing wasn't connected. By the time I got it hooked up and on, the dog was gone - which was what I wanted anyway, but still ... time is of the essence in these situations.
So first thing I buy today with my pay is a supersoaker to keep by the door. Loaded heavy on the citronella.
That pony is going down.