Thursday, October 15, 2009

I forgive you for all you ain't

One day I walked into my parents' house, and on the counter there was a to-do list my mom had made for my dad. I don't remember any of the jobs on the list except the first one, which was "Shoot cats." This being a rural area, people tend not to spay and neuter their pets, despite the fact that I'm sure our Price Is Right saturation level is very high. My parents feed their cat outside, so the dish attracts all manner of riff-raff, not excluding skunks and raccoons, and it would seem they occasionally they get fed up with it. I don't think my dad ever got around to shooting the cats.

My grandpa's farm is down the road a few miles from us, and he has his own self-sustaining population of feral cats. He's had his truck conk out on him numerous times, and when the mechanic goes poking around inside he invariably finds the remains of a cat tangled up in the engine--one particularly lucrative time there were five cats dispersed throughout the truck's innards.

Our house is the same way. I grow weary of our garage smelling like cat pee. Last year a kitten got wrapped up in our fan belt, which was both sad and annoying. And Skiver does a terrible job of defending his territory--it's like, "Grow a pair, Skiver!" Then I remember he already had a perfectly serviceable pair and some jerk cut them off. RUDE. So the many cats of loose morals and their numberless offspring have the run of our place. When we move the food and water dish inside to keep the cats away the mice start taking over. And playing! I don't think I should be such a large cog in this predator/prey balancing machine.


Jill said...

ha ha...this was a funny post! And your awnser is pretty obvious, need a dog!