After all, they're no different from you and me and look how paranoid we are and with much less reason.
They're all of them, always, just one cat-call away from falling to pieces.
They're like prey animals animals foraging out in the open. A moving shadow, a rustle in the bushes and they take fright and run.
Or maybe freeze and bare their teeth or roll into a ball and show their prickles.
Poor sweethearts. Poor, fuzzy, little, fluffy things. Poor, fuzzy, little, fluffy things that have to pretend to the world and even to themselves that they're actually lions.
Of course they have their territory. That's something. Their comfort zone. They have it all marked out. It's not where they feel safe- because they never feel safe- but it's where they feel safer.
So imagine how freaked they get when something in this landscape changes- when something is added or taken away. They barely understand the world as it is- can barely cope with it- so please, please don't switch things round on them.
Take our rabbits. We move an item of furniture, drop something on the floor and they immediately have to go all round the room, snuffling at the familiar landmarks, making sure they still know where they are.
And that's why the British Government is determined to keep Trident. At the most basic level it's not about fear of some hypothetical enemy, It's about fear of suddenly finding oneself in an unfamiliar landscape and not knowing where the burrow is.