Then there's the youngest. Peseshet. This is the one who, about a year ago, darted across the street in front of me. She was tiny. She's still tiny, only about six pounds, but she's growing up fast. Two weeks ago at o'dark thirty in the morning, we had an animal come to the lanai screen. All of my big, strong cats scrambled ass over tea kettle to get in the house. This itty-bitty stripey kitten stayed out there, all floofed up, reading the feline riot act at the trespasser. At volume. Very unlady-like language. Whatever critter had come to the screen beat a hasty retreat. (Spoiler: When I set the live trap, I caught a possum. We parted with no damage done on either part.)
Then, today, this little girl decided to exercise her hunting prowess and catch her own animated cat toy. Naturally, she brought it inside and let it go. I had to get involved at that point and rescue the critter.
The animated cat toy was ungrateful.
Pets have price tags, y'all. Price tags.