Having a slab of bliss of a day. Not one cloud. Tunes and tincture time. Do 2ml sublingual before one of the kids shouted next door’s cat had caught an unknown furry round the back of the house. You think initially ‘it might be a rat, don’t need rat shit near a paddling pool’. Except it was nothing so basic. Cue a squirrel, half dead, flapping blood as its torturer looked on
Cats are cunts at times. It’d wounded its prey, big slice across the chest but was just pawing at it. When I approached it backed off a tad, black with white socks and big yellow eyes. Picked up a spade, told the brood looking on to close their eyes and cut the squirrel’s head off. Cue uproar and by now, there’s a scene. The wife yakking ‘you didn’t have to kill it like that!’, gesticulating with her arms stab-cutting gestures, when it was clearly in agony. What do you do, leave it to be play raped too? End the pain and quickly, what other options are there?
Don’t tell me cats are cute. When we were savannah lemurs they were fucking with us then as well. Flipped the head and body over next doors. Yeah, fuck him, I hate the cunt. Has millions of cats that roam everywhere, killing and pillaging countless birds. An uneasy feeling, finding dead birds as if untouched, all because of this cunt’s cat habit