Percolate had been around for 49 long dog years. He preferred to lay around on the cool porch, only retreating under it for extreme shade. He never asked for a pesky, youthful kitten to befriend him. But his human thought it was cute.

Waffle pounced unsuccessfully at a butterfly in the yard, then frolicked over the clover to the porch. “I’m tired.”
“I’m tired just watching you.”
“You were watching me?! I’ll do it again!”
“I’m going to sleep now.”
“No watch me!” Waffle leaped of the porch and scampered to the picket fence. She climbed to the top and began walking. “Look what I can do!”

Percolate humphed and turned his head on one paw. But he caught a whiff of something new. His eyes snapped open. Two unknown human youths were walking up the street.
“Waffle! Get down!”
“I just got up!”
“Look out! Humans!” I barked. They looked at me. They looked at the kitten on the fence. I sat up. I barked again and growled low. They reached for Waffle, cooing at her. She walked toward them.
I stood. Should I run at them?