Boxer at the Baby Gate

Mrs. LMC brought two tabbys into our marriage, know affectionately as either "The Girls" (by Mrs. LMC) or "The Orange Menace" (by yours truly). These felines are refugees from her days working in the admissions office at a certain woman's college in central Virginia, and now are about thirteen years old, fat and cantankerous, and never worked out an understanding with either our dog or her sainted predecessor. We are convinced the cats torment the dog when we are out, telling her things such as: "We are going to eat you when you are dead" and "The humans are going to replace you with a stuffed golden retriever any day now." Recently, they developed the annoying habit of tracking kitty litter bits everywhere in our room, not to mention walking on our heads in the middle of the night. Mrs. LMC finally moved them upstairs with the litter box a few days ago, blocking the stairs with a baby gate to keep the boxer from imposing The Final Solution on her tormentors. The dog spends an inordinate amount of time watching the gate, waiting patiently to make her move. Stay tuned to see if the cats understand their predicament and go "feline 300" .