In a dim-lit poolhouse in a suburban neighborhood, a flock of household pets assemble for their weekly conference.

On a straw stool a grey tabby cat cleans its paw, interrupting the discussion to complain, per usual.

“Vivian got mad because I brought her a dead rat, again, like it’s my fault she’s too chicken to check the attic for intruders.”

A little mouse gulps from his spot on the fence, snuggling his tail protectively.

“Let’s be sensitive to our company.”

The Goldendoodle reminds her, motioning towards the quivering rodent.

“Calm down you…and what’s with the new haircut? You look like a rat yourself.”

The Tabby remarks, causing a plump pair of bunnies to snicker.

“It’s a summer cut, it’s very breezy.” He responds defensively.

“Thats just code for my owners are too lazy to brush out my mats.” The Tabby teases.

“Enough with the groom of doom, we’ve got matters of pertinence to consult.”

Spoke an old Yorkshire Terrier, from a broken lawn chair.

“Attention, Attention, matters of pertinence.” A parrot squawks, drumming his talon against the pool cleaner he was perched on.

“We heard her you fruit loop.” The Tabby growls.

“It has come to my attention that the Green House has adopted a new puppy.” Announces the Yorkshire.

“How exciting! A new friend! I wonder if they’ll share their toys.” A chocolate retriever chimes in, wagging his tail.

“Oh god, I’m becoming outnumbered, why don’t people adopt cats anymore, don’t they know we’re at least civilized enough keep our feces off the grass.” The Tabby complains.

“Maybe people want animals that are capable of love.” A corgi cuts in.

“Ozzy would have agreed with me.” The Tabby purrs.

“I thought he was on house arrest, after his latest escape attempt.” The Corgi replies.

“Oh that never lasts long, his owners know he wasn't born for the housecat lifestyle.”

“Well until then, I say we welcome Bubbles with open paws.” The Goldendoodle decides.

“Im sorry…Bubbles?” The Tabby smirks raising her pearly whiskers.

“The kids named him.” The Yorkshire explains.

“Wow that’s almost as bad as you, Jellybean.” States The Tabby.

She glares at a somber German Shepard guarding the door.

The German Shepard simply shrugs, returning to his duties.

“If that’s all, I suppose this meeting is over. Just a reminder to the canines, stop barking at the FedEx truck, it keeps Cindy up.”

“It’s called good communication skills…but I’ll try.” The Retriever responds.

The Tabby leaps off the stool, deliberately licking her lips as she passes by the mouse.

“Would you cut that out!” The Goldendoodle barks, but she’s already disappeared.