Well, maybe more of a territoral skirmish. The feral cat population is out of control in Bayonne. At first I thought the cats are no problem. I'll just get a bin with a lid. No food for them to eat and they won't bother us. My yard has become the neighborhood litter box. They eat my garden and have figured out how to lift the lid on my bin. Paw prints on the windsheild of my newly washed car, but the worst is when they sleep on the front stoop. I feel like they are openly mocking now. Pretty much everyday is a fresh poo on my lawn. Not only is assortment of poo impressive, it's unique. Often as I'm shoveling the poo up I've thought ooh that cat must be sick or ugh, that cat has been eating berries. I don't doubt that some of them could have been a high school art students project. Each digustingly beautiful in their own way.
The final straw came the other night while I was out for a jog/beer I was on my way back home and I turned the corner and came face to face with about eight ferals. They were sitting atop somebody's garbage can. They all looked up in unison with their tails straight up like some bad horror film. I'm embarrassed to say I crossed the street. Looked like a rough crowd. Not one of them broke out in a lovable song about life on the street and I swear one of them gave me the finger. They all watched me cross the street and go into my house. I'm sure they all made plans to go shit on my lawn later that evening. That's it! I've drawn a line in the sand and gone to city hall. They gave me a trap to capture my furry little nemesis.
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