Bella padded along the path, paused for a moment, staring between the pickets of the fence, then jumped through. A few minutes later, the scruffy, orange tomcat followed her. The next time I looked up from my reading, I saw Bella’s gray face at the fence. I waited for her to finish her inspection and jump back into the yard, but she remained frozen at the fence. Half a dozen mourning doves were foraging on the path. The tomcat came up next to Bella; still, she did not move. He waited for a moment for her to go through the fence. She cautiously moved one paw through, readying herself for attack. He took this as the signal to move on and passed through the pickets. The birds flew. Bella sprang on empty air.