Our new house, though we had it sprayed before moving, has a few bugs. Itsy bitsy spiders and roaches. Or maybe palmetto bugs. (That's what the guy says they are. They look pretty roachy to me.)
Anyway, we were sitting in the den watching TV the other night, and the girl cat lets out the most earth-shattering shriek. I rush in and she's sitting in the bedroom doorway to the kitchen. She looks up at me, then cuts her eyes to something on the kitchen floor, then looks back up at me. "Do something."
I go over and it's a roach. Not a little one but not a big one either. Kind of medium size.
I peer at it and it looks dead. I tentatively prod it and it moves. I squeal and the girl-cat, still sitting there, looks at me like: "Hey, I called you in to kill that thing, not scream at me!"
So I stomp it and get a paper towel and put it in the trash.
The girl cat gets up and struts over to inspect where it had been on the floor. Then she struts around a bit more, rippling her tail like: "I did it. I saved the household. I'm Numero Uno around here."
The boy cat came out from his napping place and didn't know what was going on. Neither did the guy in front of the TV.