Owned

Snarky went outside and addressed the main boundary violations; the ongoing fight with nocturnals demanded his full attention most mornings. Even so, he was spare in his message back to the feral cat, shed possum, and whatever else ... Snarky knew that he had to conserve his energy. "Why?" Salty asked (when he'd returned to the house). "You'll make more. Just let it rip." "I will ... tomorrow," Snarky explained in a firm tone (as he turned round and round and round to floof his blanket pile in the mud room), "AFTER I mark the new year. I'm gonna own that thing from start to finish." Salty nodded, impressed. Through the window and across the back alley, Princess did NOT nod impressed. Allowing herself to be brushed while sitting on her damask day cushion, Princess' eyes narrowed to slits. "I have a long day of sitting, sleeping, and doing nothing planned," she hissed. "We'll see who owns this year." The early morning sun shone timidly through the stained glass half moon window in her cat door.