And while the tiny field mouse scurries away, fortunate to have survived its harrowing encounter, another predator silently awaits an unsuspecting prey. Across the vast expanse of the sun room, past the foyer and into the utility nook, a cleverly disguised carnivore lies in wait.

Felis Wikkeris, commonly known as the North American Wicker Cat, conceals its presence by mimicking its surroundings. Taking advantage of the unique color-changing properties of her fur, this chameleonesque creature seeks out a woven-wood hollow and waits patiently for her next meal to inauspiciously saunter in.

Sadly for this sagacious stalker —and a stroke of good fortune for her would-be morsel — this region remains the domain of Homo Obtusis, often referred to as That Idiot Human. This lumbering anthropoid sheds its outer layer several times per day, neglectfully discarding its fibrous casings into the unlucky lynx’s hunting blind. Her advantage now exposed, Felis Wikkeris retreats to one of her many slumber enclaves where she will rest for 17 hours, then begin the process all over again.