There are five residents in this house, two humans and three cats. The humans are seniors and two of the cats are getting close to that stage of life. The third is a kitten, a bright-eyed, affectionate, fearless and hyperactive bundle of fluff.

Experts say that cats are capable of more than 100 vocal sounds. Angus, our oldest cat, uses them all. Pookie, the second oldest, hardly uses them at all. He showed up on our doorstep almost ten years ago, just sitting there and staring at the door. When I opened the door, he walked in. He seems to believe in telepathy. When he wants out he sits and looks at the door until one of us gets up and opens it. If he’s desperate he will reach up and tap one of us on the arm. When he’s outside and wants to come in, he sits by the door and stares at it. That always works for him, though sometimes he has to wait awhile.

It’s a mystery to me how Pookie communicates with the other cats. He’s not a scrapper, he doesn’t ever make much noise, but they know not to mess with Pookie. Tuffy, the youngest cat, often jumps on Angus and they start wrestling. Nobody gets hurt, but it can get noisy at times and sometimes they chase each other through the house. It looks like Angus enjoys it, up to a point, but it’s a little like a 10 year old boy always wanting to wrestle with his grandfather.

Lately Pookie has taken on the role of policeman. Several days ago Tuffy and Angus were noisily wrestling on the living room floor. The disturbance awakened Pookie and he came to investigate. He didn’t make a sound, yet they stopped their scrap and looked at him. First he fixed Angus with a glare and Angus slunk off to hide behind the recliner. Pookie then fixed his glare on Tuffy, who slunk off in the other direction.

They were at it again this afternoon. Pookie came along as they dashed down the hall. Pookie sat down on the dining room floor and waited. Tuffy came strolling back, on a path that would have taken him in front of Pookie, then veered off and went behind him, Pookie eying him all the time. Tuffy walked over to the couch, reached up and started scratching on the arm. Pookie walked over and gave him a swat. Tuffy stopped, walked away and lay down on the floor. A few minutes later all five of us were enjoying a peaceful Sunday afternoon nap.