Stosh, as the man of the house (something over which he and Louie argue
daily) has taken to patrolling each room, looking out each window, making
sure that his territory isn't being invaded by undesirables. He makes quite
a cute spectacle as he is very proud of this position of great
responsibility, and when he sees a squirrel or one of the ladies' suitors
(and they have many who come to lament that their strict Mama won't let them
out) he breaks off into a low-pitched, grumbling meow-fit and tears around
the house snarling, "Respect my Authoritah!"

Yes, we watch South Park. :-)

Yesterday he was in the front window, his tail swishing like a windshield
wiper, and I heard a bizarre little sound that made me think at first that
Louie had sat on one of the ladies: a burst of little meowies that sounded
like soft, quick squeaks or whines. When we looked through the crack in the
curtains we found a fine, fat pigeon strutting his stuff on the porch
railing, taunting Stosh unmercifully. I hadn't heard that weird little
birdie-call out of a cat in years! Even Fritzie hadn't gone off on it in the
last five years of his life, and I'd forgotten that cats seem to click and
cluck at birds that they can't make a grab at. And boy, Stosh was madder
than hell! How dare this piddling little pigeon stomp around on His Honor's
grounds, knowing good and well he can fly right out of there, when clumsy
little Stosh has to remain groundbound? He didn't feel confident in his
Authoritah again until he saw that other intruder, The Yarn, and went to
beat the snot out of it.

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.