Number 10 Downing St:
Belongs to us, finally.
All of those years, the humans thought it was theirs. They'd only allow one of us at a time. That one was well treated, of course -- humans always want to impress other humans; and many humans, quite properly, are impressed if humans know how to take proper care of a cat.
Two sisters moved in right after the Change. They let the resident neutered tom stay and live out his life; he was doing no harm, and washed their ears quite nicely; and when the full toms came to visit, they chose one to stay who wouldn't bother him too much. Then of course there were kittens; but we found we could choose when to have them, and how many. So there are indeed many of us; but not too many, and no one exhausts herself bearing more than she can easily feed.
So it's ours, now. Cats in all the rooms, going in and out all the broken windows. So many cats that the new monsters stay away, seeking easier prey; and because they stay away, mice and squirrels and rabbits come to hide from them, and all of us eat well.
We're a bit more generous than the humans were. We allow one entire human family; guiding replacements in when needed, held safe within a crowd of cats on a sunny day. We like to have our ears properly scratched, after all. They keep a garden, and set snares for game (giving us our share, of course), and there are plenty of books in the building for them to stare at (and for us to sit on.)
But the humans don't pretend they're in charge, any longer. About time they learned that lesson.