FELINE FELON

I'm a criminal. I keep the blinds drawn so that people won't see in. If the door goes I only open it a bit and I stick my head out to talk to whomever is out there. Does it sound like a check sheet to a grow-op? Well, I'm a dastardly (to use a word of Brad Pitt's) felon. A feline felon.

Far too many people in my town do not look after their animals. The dogs bark constantly and run around off leash. I am forever feeding the poor strays that show up as the owners are too cheap to fix them and perceive them as being merely "barn cats". I don't know how many times I've gone for a walk and had to fight off a dog attack.

The solution? Not to enforce any existing bylaws. No, they created a brand new one. They limited the amount of pets any household could hold to two. Watch out you owners of too many guppies. They're coming for you.

When asked about how in the hell this would be enforced, the erstwhile Mayor said that people would come to your house to check. Mind you, The Supreme Court ruled that even to enter the home of a suspected grow operation the police had to have a warrant and had to knock to announce their presence.

I guess it's easier to go and attack the homes of Cat Ladies. That along with seat belt infractions must be a serious crime, given the constant checks ongoing for those.

And what to do with the criminal? Or the pets? Death to the animals, I'm sure.

I'll be damned if anybody is coming into my house. Should some idiot show up on my door and try to gain entry, flashing a little laminated badge announcing them as the Pussy Patrol, I will defend myself as though they were Joe Rapist. My pets never go outside and they are much loved. The vet in the town thought the town council were idiots. She refuses to disclose or talk about ownership.

I hope my cats learn the rules of "life underground". Stay away from the windows. At least three of them are black, so if they go to the window they had better learn that it's one at a time. With any luck, the neighbours may think they're the same beast. Or go and peer out at night. Close your eyes if car headlights go by. We wouldn't want all those eyeballs lighting up at one time.

This is so ironic given the fact that the people on one side of me have five children. The people on the other side also have five. The people in the area are fixated on the repair of pickup trucks. Noise, idling, reving. This is accompagnied by very bad country music played at a high volume. The lawn obsession causes the massive overusage of very toxic fertilizers. Even when there's burn bans on, people not wanting to pay for pickup burn their crap in the yard. Chainsaws are obviously the male version of the vibrator.

But no, my cats are the risk and threat. I guess it's that Black Panther group behind it all.