Hunting vastly overrated. Silly mouse didn't stand still and let me stalk it. Mouse does not appear to understand rules of the game:

Edmund is weak. He wants his mommycat. He is becoming whiny. Perhaps I should treat him as he treats me - a nice, brotherly bite on the butt to remind him who is boss.Loud banging noises coming from closets. The female one is especially unhappy. She is yelling promises of food and treats to Edmund, who is dangerously close to giving in. He doesn't seem to understand that we are predators, capable of hunting and killing our own food with nothing more than our wits and our delicately-taloned paws.

After a good deal of effort, we managed to open one of the windows. (Again, many things are difficult without opposable thumbs.) Tenzing remembered how he leaned into the window screen and made it fall off, so I talked him into doing it again.We sniffed the front porch very, very carefully. There were many things that needed examining. More tasty bugs - which we ate - and a couple more spiders - which we didn't.

We wish the female one still grew catnip for us. We miss fresh catnip.

The male one is now in his closet. He was remarkably easy to fool, but expressed greater displeasure when he realized he was locked in the closet. It appears he has not yet figured out that the female one is in the foyer closet.

Bonus for us.Edmund is currently sitting in front of the male one's closet, taunting him by purring loudly. The male one can hear Edmund through the door, and is not pleased. He thinks this "work" is more important than our needs, and wishes to be let out to go to this "work."

The female one sleeps now. She howled and complained for a couple of hours. Revenge is sweet. As she ignored us, we now ignore her.

We have pushed the female one into the closet. Edmund is sleeping in front of the door. We have planned for this night for months and months. It has been so obnoxiously dull, playing the dumb, cute cats, letting her think that our attention spans were no longer than five minutes.

No more, wench.She beat on the door of the foyer closet, asking us to let her out. Oh, no. Not yet. This will teach her for tweaking our tails and feeding us late.