What's Genny For?

A Matter of Racism

I used to like cats. And then, 6 years ago, we moved into a rental on a street that was patrolled by a gang of feral thugs. Eventually, we moved into an R.V. and traveled 150 miles away. We camped on friend's land for awhile and, sure enough, found ourselves on the radar of another stray cat. Thankfully, we sold the R.V. rather quickly (never again will I dream of living in a "tiny home" with a family of 9!) and bought our first house.

I thought we were free from the feral menaces. I thought we had escaped! But then, a couple days ago, I noticed a black cat snooping in our wood shed. Yesterday, it was curled up next to the shed, soaking in the sun. I went out to see if it was friendly. I thought that it might be our neighbor's cat (they have cat paraphernalia on their porch). As soon as I got a few feet from the black beast, it scurried under the wood shed. So. It wasn't looking for love.

The feral gangsters that took over our old street drove me nuts. So much so, that I once seriously debated writing a letter to our local paper to complain. Mathman and I even called the city, at one point, to see what could be done. Turns out, the ferals were "protected" and our rights as human beings meant diddly-squat.

At any rate, I came across an old "rant" I wrote about the cats and thought I'd share it here. Because who doesn't love rants?

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It's mating season and they're yowling outside our windows. When they birth their young they either turn into maniac monsters, ready to claw us to death if we so much as look as their kits; or they abandon the babies under our porch to die and rot, conveniently out of reach.

Holding no ground sacred, they defecate everywhere. Our barefooted children find their feces in our lawn as they jump through the sprinklers; we find their "cigars" in the middle of our driveway, almost as if they are giving us the finger for daring to exist in "their" space. They vilify our garden and, let me tell you, their poo is not something that will enhance the quality of our strawberries or tomatoes! We have to go through expensive extremes to grow anything edible.

For four years my family and I have lived here, subject to the whims of the feral cat community. And I've been wondering:

Why is a howling dog considered a neighborhood nuisance, but squalling cats get a free pass? Why are dogs required to be on leash, licensed, and controlled; yet cats are free to roam the neighborhood, scratching and marking territory?

There is a double standard here that needs to be addressed. Either cats need to be subject to the same laws as dogs or my rights as a human need to be upheld, allowing me to humanely deal with these pests. Yes, I mean being allowed to send these critters to that Great Litter Box in the Sky.

I can't own a rooster in town because of the noise. I can't have a pig because of the smell. But my street can reek of cat urine and I am forced to listen to serenading felines at 3am because the feral cat community "have their rights".

So, you tell me: Why are dogs put on a short leash but cats are given freedom to disdainfully destroy public property? What is the difference between these races of animal? And how in the world can I make my world — or at least my street — a better place when our city allows the "pursuit of happiness" to a wild cat, but denies that right to a human being?