Throwback Thursday: Catrophy

Throwback Thursday means I get to cheat and publish something I wrote a long time ago. This was from my humour column Annamaniacs and it was first published in 2003. I must have been a child genius to have published something twenty-three years ago when I'm only twenty-nine now.

It's actually appropriate for now because the city I just left is debating this very topic. Sure, everything else has changed, but we're all still fighting over cats.

Catrophy

By Anna Maria Junus

I recently found out that in my town, there is a cat bylaw. It took me four years and two cats to find this out.

The law states that you have to keep your cat on your property, or you will receive a $50 fine.

Do any of these people who made the law actually own a cat?

Do they really think that if you tell a cat to sit and stay, they will? Try doing that. Say “Sit, Muffy! Sit!” Muffy will look right through you, yawn, and then walk away – and go wherever Muffy pleases to go.

Oh, yes, I know there are the pampered ones who sit around the house looking pretty and using litter boxes, and they have never even taken a whiff of outside air. They eat expensive food that their owners grind for them, sleep in their owners' beds because their own baskets aren’t good enough, and get no more exercise than a long stretch. Often, these beings don’t dare go outside because they’ve been declawed, detoothed, and turned into teddy bears who demand attention. If a person did nothing but eat and sleep and look out the window at the world outside, we would label him depressed, put him on medication, and send him to counselling.

But a real cat is a wild thing. They are the workers of the domestic world. Cats were created for a reason other than to give humans a live rubbing stone and little girls without baby brothers something to dress up. Cats were created to keep the rodent population down.

Yes, my dear friends, your cuddly furry friend is, at heart, a bloodthirsty serial killer.

Some people would suggest putting your cat on a leash and setting him outside like a dog. But dogs don’t climb trees and they’re not very good at jumping fences. Try doing that with a leash around your neck. Muffy might make it to the top of fence. “Okay, here’s my escape. I’m on the top of the fence and I just have to jump to the other side. Here I go…Hmppphhh. The leash is too short! I’m choking. Help.”

Then you’ll get an irate neighbour on your doorstep complaining about the dead cat swinging from the fence.

And have you ever tried catching a mouse when you’re tied to a tree? You really think mice are going to go right up to a tied-up cat and allow it to catch them? They might figure out just how far the cat can go and then sit just outside of its reach. “Hey Muffy, come and get me! Hey everybody, look at this! A cat tied to a tree!” Then all the mouse’s family and friends will gather around and shake their butts at Muffy and say, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, you can’t get me.” Poor Muffy will be yanking on her chain, trying desperately to reach them, and finally collapse in humiliation. Meanwhile, the mice will enter the house and take out any groceries that appeal to them. “Hey guys, I found some peanut butter! Swiss cheese, my favourite! Do you want the whole-grain bread or the white?

Of course, Muffy could catch mice inside the house. That’s what every homeowner wants. The mice to actually enter the home and set up house before the cat can catch them. It would be like watching the Tom and Jerry show. And there’s nothing like seeing a fresh kill on your $400 duvet.

There’s great jubilation happening in Mouseville. The cats are in prison. Mice are now free to go about their business, terrorizing homeowners and stealing baked goods.

And those who passed the cat bylaw can rest easy knowing they have rescued the rodent population.