I’m glad the hardware cloth on the top of the runs is sturdy since the neighborhood cats like to sit on it like fuzzy toadstools. I took the picture with the black cat up and Sophie looking on (I pretty sure she taught them all the trick). My husband took the one of the big white cat, who truly looks like a fungi. The chickens don’t seem to be concerned about fuzzy death from above, but did let out concerned noises when my husband approached. So there we go. The cats have found a place to watch chicken TV without disturbing the inmates.