When she got older, ZIpper (The good cat) was old and stiff, and didn't go out as much. I used to take her out to the yard and assure her that yes, she was still queen of the wood, and the children of yester years birds had been warned by their mothers on the legend of the dread huntress. I told her she was still the fell majesty of the backyard, and she was great, and thus always would be. I swear, she purred rustily during those speeches. But it might have been stroking and sunlight