It's spring in Stratford (Ontario, that is), and the squirrels and birds are brisking about the life. Our two house-bound cats spend hours at the windows, taking in the show and making comments that probably amount to "Possibly tasty" or "Looks too much like work".

When the door is open, however, one cat never approaches it (despite her avian threats), and the other may stick his nose out but rarely tries to do more.

I think they prefer fantasizing about the havoc they might wreak, and manipulating their human staff.