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I love my kitties and I love my wildlife, and I make sure they’re all happy and thriving. Funniest cat-wildlife experience I’ve ever had was a cat-squirrel encounter. I’ve got all my squirrels trained to take peanuts and acorns from people. The more confident ones demand it from every human who emerges from the back door of the house — the only one we really use, and the cat door is a couple of feet away from it and opens onto the same covered patio.

So one day, my dear now-departed then-20-year-old cat heads out the cat door to take a stroll in the garden, and is promptly confronted by a very confident squirrel — confident that it understands how this nut-getting business works: a creature comes out of the house onto the patio, you run up to it, and it gives you a nut. This squirrel was doing what psychologists call “overgeneralization”, and I knew immediately what was going on, and could barely contain my laughter. Poor kitty, however, not having studied psychology, was baffled. So was the squirrel, who just couldn’t figure out why this wasn’t working, and kept trying over and over again, moving back a couple of feet and then repeating the approach, stopping a couple of inches from the cat in typical begging squirrel pose. The cat was a kind-hearted, patient soul and hadn’t the slightest interest in chasing, much less harming the squirrel. But by the third or fourth try, he was feeling like this might be some sort of threat so, still in a sitting position, and even leaning back a little on account of the “threat”, he took a very slow hesitant swat towards the squirrel (deliberately not actually touching the squirrel, but trying to send a gentle message about cat-squirrel relations). I really felt sorry for the squirrel, whose disappointment and confusion was complete. Naturally, I went and fetched a nut and gave it to the still-confused squirrel . . . after I’d stopped laughing.

So you see, if I kept my cats inside, I’d never have the chance to enjoy this sort of wonderful entertainment.