I've been sitting waiting for a delivery with our cat on my lap. We watch the birds at the bird-feeder swaying in the magnolia tree in the garden. There is a female blackbird on the ground underneath the feeder picking up fallen seeds. How do I know she's a female blackbird? Well - she's brown of course!
The cat tells me he would find her delicious by the small quivering of his lips and the longing look in his eyes. He gazes up at me. Can he catch her? No, you can't!
I take another draw on my PV and exhale a cloud of vapour around pussy's trusting face. Except for watching the eddies of the vapour, he lies still. I try switching flavours from Cream to Irish Cream. Another cloud. Another curious gaze into the little twists of vapour rising up. Now I try Lemon Meringue Pie. Neither flavour nor vapour makes any difference to the cat. His claws contract and open as he stretches, too lazy to hunt, and loving my attention.
I don't need science telling me about second hand vapour - the cat tells me everything I need to know. If it had been cigarette smoke he would have run like hell!