Michael-cat mewed to come in. Late night snack time. When finished he hopped on to the ottoman near my chair. I petted him. He hissed and swatted my hand. Blossom-cat approached. Michael-cat hissed at him as well. He stared and stared and stared at the door, looking desperate and nervy. I got up to let him out and he promptly nicked my chair, sprawled out aggressively limp and went to sleep.
I'd been faked out by a fat old cat with dermatitis.