Moshe, Moshe, Moshe.
I don’t know what goes on in your little kitty brain. I hate to break this to you, but you are not the great white hunter. In fact, you are a fat, gray cat who by odd circumstance ended up with a Swahili name. Your name doesn’t even mean hunter; it just means gray.
So, sitting on the back of the loveseat and rumbling your little kitty rumbles at the birds or whatever lives in that hole near my rosebush is fairly ineffective.
In fact, the only one who can hear you is me and I remain shamelessly unafraid.
Give it up and go take a nap.
…
Things sure change when a baby comes into the household..lol…I remember!
There is one particular outdoor cat in our neighborhood who is a horrible instigator…he comes and sits at my sliding screen door on my porch waiting for one of my indoor cats to waddle by. Then, they freak out on one another, hissing, swatting, chasing, while the outdoor cat walks away arrogantly and smugly. I then have to separate my two to keep them from killing one another. Grrrr…what a pain!