This is a brief account of my foray into the wild world of my own neighborhood after my cat disappeared. You may think that your missing cat was hit by a car or attacked by another animal, but there is another very real possibility: Your pet may have been “rescued” by a thief who believes that she (they’re usually female) is a hero. If you’re in a city like Sacramento, you will find that Animal Control will do nothing to assist you. Because Animal Control does nothing to sickos who trap and otherwise kidnap other peoples’ pets, they are actually part of the problem.
I’m a responsible pet owner with two cats. Both are microchipped, neutered, licensed through the city (I get to pay for “licensing” even though Animal Control does absolutely nothing helpful with my tax dollars or my “licensing” dollars), up-to-date on their shots, have annual check-ups, receive veterinary care whenever necessary, are well fed, are trained to come when I call, receive copious amounts of attention, and are thoroughly loved. Being cats, they love the outdoors. Because I love them, I allow them to go outdoors even though this requires more care and attention on my part. When I’m not home, they come indoors. When I’m home, they are never out of my sight for more than an hour or two.
This is a very long story, but I am going to try to make it as brief as possible. Three weeks ago my beautiful 1.5 year old cat disappeared into thin air. I walked around my neighborhood and surrounding areas 2 and sometimes 3 times a day and in the middle of the night. I made hundreds of color fliers and walked around door to door to deliver them. I posted on Craigslist and anyplace else I could find. I always took a flashlight when I went out searching in order to peer under houses and in sheds. In short, I put much of my life on hold to search for my cat.
I spoke to many nice neighbors and a few cranky ones. One child said after seeing my cat’s picture: “I know the lady who feeds him.” Oh yeah? says I. Where does she live? Another neighbor said: “There’s a woman down the street who leaves lots of food out for cats.” Oh yeah? says I. Where does she live? All comments pointed to one particular neighbor who lives a half a dozen houses down the street from me.
In front of her house several kittens can be seen going in and out of one of the openings to the crawlspace under her house. On the porch is a baited trap. Now that really gave me pause. What the heck is she doing with a baited trap? She never answers her door, and all windows are blocked day and night.
One of her next-door neighbors informs me that Cat Lady traps “stray” cats. Hmmmm. How does Cat Lady know they’re strays unless she has all the equipment needed to scan for the various types of microchips? Sounds to me like Cat Lady is really Crazy Hoarder.
Several days go by and I’m unable to ever get Crazy Hoarder to answer the door. Then, on an early morning search-walk, I see a dead cat on the pavement in front of Crazy Hoarder’s house. It is truly horrid to look at, its insides trailing behind it. This poor kitty looked like it had either been attacked by another animal or poisoned. Here comes her next-door neighbor again. She begins to complain about the group of boys who live in the house on the other side of Crazy Hoarder. These boys are about 20, are usually wasted, have loud parties, and drive like maniacs through the narrow city streets. Apparently Crazy Hoarder often calls the police on these boys. Next Door Neighbor also tells me that several cats have been killed by speeding cars that were either driven by the Stoned Boys or their friends.
I begin to wonder if the massacred cat in front of me wasn’t a victim of the Stoned Boys trying to get back at the Crazy Hoarder. Between the fact that I have a crazy person who steals (“rescues”) other peoples’ cats and antagonistic young boys who hate her guts all living right down the street from me, I now really wish I’d never allowed my cats to ever go outside. I suppose I’ve not realized until now how America has changed. In the America I grew up in, you wouldn’t have to worry about crazy people “rescuing” animals. Now there’s probably one of these psychopaths on every block.
Go ahead and Google “cat rescue” and peruse what you find. There are apparently countless folks who just take in whatever cat they “feel” is a “stray.” They are given praise for loving animals Oh So Much. They get a lot of reinforcement from other hoarders (“rescuers”). But if they really loved cats, they would take any suspected strays to either the SPCA, a vet, or animal control to be scanned and/or given a chance to be claimed by their rightful owner. The truth is that they have an obsessive compulsive type of illness masquerading as do-gooding. They make me sick to my stomach. At least burgulars don’t try to pose as saints.
Anyone who just decides to take animals should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Problem is, there is no laws against it. At least not here in Sacramento. Animal Control (AKA Useless Morons Collecting Big Welfare Checks) told me that there was nothing they could do, and that anyone’s allowed to trap animals.
I suppose that after my other cat dies I will no longer have another unless I move to a less insane country. In America, it isn’t safe to allow your animal out amongst your possibly diagnosable neighbors. And some of us will not subject a cat to a life of imprisonment indoors. One more personal freedom bites the dust.