The next morning, I went down to the underground parking lot, only to find many cat footprints on my car. Those messy traces of small paws covered the windshield, the hood and the roof of my car.

“Not again!” I exclaimed. “I swear if the janitor let a single one stray cat jumping on my car again--”

“No worries, honey,” my husband reassured me in passenger seat. “I heard there is going to be a big hunt for stray cats. No more cat disturbance, for at least several months.”

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“It better work!” I started my car and drove away. A jarring thud from behind the car caught our attention.

“What was that?” my husband asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I said after taking a quick glance at the rear-view mirror. “Just some white cat. Dead, presumably.”

“Well, guess they started the hunt earlier.”

“Maybe...But the cat was holding a big fish bone. Weird. And...disturbing.”

“You know what those stray cats are like, devouring in dustbins.”

“Can you imagine just centuries ago, cats were regarded as sacred animals? They are said to carry souls and such. It’s a shame they ended up like this.”

“Yeah, right. Watch out! There are some more ahead.”