Our window screens have taken a beating for months.
Yes, The Texian Tuxedo appeared to be living in a dump.
The parties responsible for this sorry state of affairs were several of the stray cats that call our apartment complex home.
One of them, making late night rounds, would see one of us, or more, sitting in the window and hop onto the fan box and open a discussion about the issues of the day in the news and we, good ConservaPussies that we are, would try to educate the poor dear.
This would set our visitor into a rage and the claws would come out and the poor dear would start mindlessly hissing, yowling and swinging until Daddy Kiril woke up and came to the window to end the show and chase the misguided soul away.
The past couple of months, or so, the visits appeared to have stopped so daddy finally requested replacements.