There is a big old black cat that is taunting poor Terrance. Each night it saunters past the front of the house, right where the light shines, so Terrance can see him. Some times he sits, bathed in light, in perfect line of site of Terrance’s perch at the front window. He primps, he stares and Terrance…. Goes nuts!
He huffs, and wines and barks, and circles, ears up, ears down, circle more…
We remind him that there is nothing that he can do. The cat – his pretty, the intruder – is outside and he – the protector – is limited to the inside of the house.
He doesn’t like the reminder and he doesn’t like his stalker.
Each night now, Terrance sits in front of the window, noses the curtains out of his way and searches for his taunter, his temptress…
Poor Terrance!
And cats can be so so arrogant