My apartment is on the ground floor and we have a few dozen cats in the neighbourhood. I don't know if they all belong to my neighbours or if some of them are stray cats. As I like to sleep with cold fresh air, the terrace door is open at night.
Of course they come in. When I turn on the lights at morning, two or three leave almost immediately, but an old one with a crooked tail feels comfortable to stay a little longer. Today this one bit me into the hand, no blood, but enough to get her out. Now I let down the shutters completely. You don't sleep in my warm bed and bite my hand to say thanks.
But anyway, if I would be condemned to death, I'd probably eat 40 magic mushrooms before my execution, 2 or 3 hours before they'd kill me.