Oh Yura, sitting in your favorite spot. Sunning, relaxing, queen of all you survey. Your ruffled fur is drying in the Sun, your whiskers twitch slightly.

But, lo! Who arrives but Adak!! He waddles up to you (on all fours, for fur seals, like all sea lions, have flexible hips) and bows his long-whiskered face.

Yura, you are not a fool. You fall not for this suave pinniped. You bark, you charge, you drive Adak back into the waters.

But he is not easily swayed. He returns, and yet again you drive him off.

The harbor seals watch in silent judgment.

Eventually, Adak admits defeat, and you, dear Yura, are queen again.

At least until next Thursday.