Once upon a time there was a little village up in the mountains. The people who lived there lived in ongoing fear of being attacked by robbers. They were poor, and could not do without the little they had. They also were too poor to pay for armed help. But they were not too poor to give milk to the cats that visited them in the evening before departing into the wilderness. They loved the cats, and the cats loved them.
So, one night, all the cats met together in the deep of the forest, and one after another they spoke in favour of their human friends. “They are our brothers,” one of the cats said, “and although they cannot see very well, and they cannot hear very well, and are reather weak compared with our proud cat tribe, they have been good to us, and so we have to take action and help them. Every day and every night one of us will act as a guardian and sit down on yonder hill by the path, and whenever he or she sees a stranger coming he or she will tell us others and we will fight with claws and teeth.” “Hear, hear,” replied his mates, and from this night on the little village up in the mountains had its guardian cats.