There's this strange lady that lives across the street from me.

She's 6 feet tall, weighs about 120 lbs., white skinned, hair all over the place. Kinda' like Captain Cavemen, but bright red.

I call her Bizarro.

She's got some weird traits about her. I have her pegged as either an intellect, or a recovering crack addict.

Everyday I sit on my porch and watch as Bizarro goes for a walk. Everyday it's the same thing.

Hands behind her.

Mumbling to herself.

Walking up the street, then down the street, then back up the street, then back down the street, then back up the street,.....

If she ever stopped doing this I'd have to get fish.

Anyways, as I left the house this morning, I saw Bizarro talking to a couple old ladies that also live on my street.

"Here comes someone new. I'll ask him" she directed towards me. "Excuse me, but have you seen a black cat with white paws around?"

"No, sorry I haven't" I said. "Lost your cat?"

"Yeah, not just me but a few of us in the neighborhood. I'm thinking it might be a lab gathering cats to do research on them."

(Cue Coo Coo birds)

She continued "I'm a animal cruelty teacher (I swear she said that!) and just last night I was saying to my class that I'd prefer to find my cat dead then missing. I know how these labs operate. They drive around and gather domestic cats to be used for research. You haven't seen a van driving around last night, have you?"

Ignoring the wide door of opportunity to crack Chinese food jokes, purely out of the goodness of my heart, I just said "Sorry, no. I'll definately keep my eyes out and let you know if I see anything."

She said thanks and went back to looking for her cat.

Now, I hate cats. I've always hated cats. Cats are the most pompous, self-centered creatures God ever created. The only time they want contact with a human is to get petted, or fed. They're also the cruelest. Any cat owner will tell you about how they not only hunt for the mere sport of it, but will torture their prize for as long as they can allow themselves to keep their victim alive.

But I've had many pets in my life, and know well enough that losing a pet is like losing a family member. And for that I felt sorry for her.

As I was driving to work, I was thinking about the one time I bore witness to animal cruelty.

Well, it was cruel in my eyes, but the perpetrator thought it was very humane.

It happened at the hands of my notorious Uncle Dougie. Uncle Dougie is very much like Ted Nugent. Long hair, awesome guitar player, lives in a cabin, Republican, NRA member, and sarcastic as hell.

One of my first memories of Uncle Doug was when I was maybe 9 years old. Doug would have these parties at his house where literally hundreds of people would show. You'd find everybody from Native Americans, to Hells Angels, to Rastafarians stumbling around.

Anyways, on one such occasion. Me, my dad, and my brother were on our way up. As we turned on the street that Douglas lived off of, we noticed a naked motorcyclist fly by in the other direction.

"Was that Doug?" Someone asked.

Just then we noticed a police officer chasing after him.

A female officer I should add.

Anyways, the time of the incident that I was reflecting on in my car, came about when I was 11.

I was over my uncle's house with my dad.

Dad and Douglas were drinking beer, playing darts, and listening to The Doobie Brothers or some shit.

My uncle got a phone call. When he got off, he was gathering stuff from his closet, and arguing about whether I should be going with them or not.

My father was saying "I don't think it's a good idea to bring him along."

My uncle responded "I'm not leaving him alone in my house. I got too many guns lying around."

"Where ya going?" I asked

"We gotta' do some man stuff. Tell your father to stop treating you like a baby."

"C'mon dad, let me go. I'm a man."

"You're not going to like it, Jonathan."

"Of course you're going to like it" Unk said "Get in the truck.

My uncle had one of those big trucks that should have a sign on the side that reads "I'VE GOT A BIG DICK!"

So we start driving, I ask again where we were going.

My uncle explained to me that up where he lives, people have lots of land. They're animal farmers mostly. Sometimes people come and dump off stray cats on their property. Cats come in and make a mess of things. They go after the chickens, eat the other animal's food, and breed like crazy. Before you know it your land is infested with cats. A friend of mine has that problem and has asked me to help.

If I wasn't so naive I would have been able to add gun, plus need to get rid of cats, plus uncle Doug, and knew what was about to happen.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I certainly wasn't expecting for him to get a big bowl of milk, lay it right in front of the truck where I was told to wait.

I absolutely wasn't expecting a hundred cats, and tiny kittens hobbling up from all directions.

I most certainly wouldn't have guessed that he was going to wait until every feline within a square mile was around that bowl of milk.

And the the last thing that would have crossed my mind would be that uncle Dougie would aim his shotgun at that bowl of milk, shooting and killing every cat with one shot.

Kitty parts all over the windshield.

The worst part is that none of the kitties were even remotely ugly. They were all sweet an innocent like these...

Anyways, hope you're all having a GREAT day.

See you soon!

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