Magpie reinforcements have arrived. Last night, in response to an almighty clattering and squawking, I found Bad Cat sitting on the window sill, trying to bash a magpie perched on the other side of the glass. The magpie just stared back impassively. Come outside and try it, fluffball. There were another five outside.
With all the squawking I eventually had to go outside and talk to them. Firstly, I have a non-aggression pact with The Grand Council of Crows, negotiated some years ago atop Hilly Fields. They're not allowed to peck my head, and I'm not allowed to chase them with sticks for doing so. Magpies, as fellow corvids, are bound to this treaty as they're signatories to the Grand Council's accords. Yes, yes, they don't like this, and they may protest, but that's the treaty. And absolutely no one breaks a treaty with crows. I explain all this and they claim that, as non-humans and 'stupid furballs', our cats are not covered by any treaty despite the treaty clearly stating that it covers 'family and friends.' So now have to get the Grand Council involved, which is a palaver because you can't just turn up in the hope they'll see you, and it's not like they're on the internet. Well, they might have a WhatsApp group.
Bloody cat. I should make her negotiate her own treaty. I would, were it not for the fact that she can't talk.