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No one will call me the Cat Lady

For past couple of weeks, a few cats have been hanging around our yard. The first time I heard them, while lying in bed, I thought it was a baby crying, but found out later it was just these cats. I blame Brian for these visits; he has thrown out stale/moldy bread and the like, and I surmise these wandering cats discovered the food. Then again, I am no cat expert.

My senior year of college I dated this guy Chuck, who lived with three girls and a cat they named Kitty. Kitty did not like me, regardless of how much I tried to make him/her (I cannot recall the gender); I think he was jealous. Then one fall day, when I was watching the Steelers play the Vikings at Chuck's house, Kitty jumped on my chest. I was so excited; I think my exact words were, "Kitty likes me!" Unfortunately, a few seconds after I said that, Kitty peed on me. As you can imagine, to say I did not like Kitty was an understatement. The rest of the year, whenever that cat was around, was not fun.

That summer, Chuck called me saying he had bad news, which made my heart stop. Then he said that Kitty had been hit by a car and died. Of course, I told him how sorry I was, but inside, I was practically doing a happy dance. Wrong? Sure, but that cat was evil!

Fast-forward to 2009, and my feelings against cats are not nearly as strong, but I am still not a fan. Needless to say, these cat invaders are not welcome in my yard, and I would be happy to get rid of them. I don't want them to meet an unfortunate demise, mind you. And I doubt that Sadie could take them. But if there was something in the pork-laden stimulus package or budget that could remove unwanted critters from where they don't belong, I would not object.
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