Stories

Disclaimer - All stories may be fictional and are intended solely for the entertainment of our members or guests. Any likeness to cats living or dead is strictly coincidental- we have endeavored to ensure that all kills were made as humanely as possible and all were taken subject to rules/regulations in states where such activity is allowed — the chaiokitty staff

R.I.P.  Pussycat

 You were here such a short time. It seems like only yesterday we brought you home from the animal shelter. Sure, you weren't cheap, we had to pay for vaccinations for toxoplasmosis, rabies, feline leukemia, and cat scratch fever etc not to mention seventy bucks to neuter anyhow, we loved you and welcomed you home to share our home. We spent good money on toys for you to play with ( which you ignored of course, you were much more interested in climbing the new curtains and shredding plants) we could put up with that  and the fact that you insisted on the expensive canned food- none of that cheap dry food in the bag for you, no sir.  Ok ok - we didn't especially like the way you kept forgetting to use the litter box, opting instead to surprise us with a warm pile left out in the hallway for our bare feet to find or the way we had to replace the carpet in the kid’s room where you insisted on emptying your bladder. These things we were willing to overlook as you brought such joy to the medical professionals when we had to tell them how cranky you got when we tried to entice you to take your heartworm prevention pills and that we should have known enough to put on heavy gloves and coats beforehand.  Oh yes, there were so many things that brought you happiness. And when spring came around how you would sit for hours and hours- staring out the window at all the birds that were freeloading at the feeder in our yard. Was it our fault we thought you wanted to go play with them? How were we to know you had other plans? We had no clue you could turn to such savagery. We really didn't know- as picky as you were with your food that you would kill and eat those pretty birds- shame on you! And how could you expect to know that I had been feeding and caring for those little birds for years? Is it your fault you were driven by some primordial urge to kill?  No, maybe not.  But I LIKED those birds- and in my defense I didn't make you suffer- a quick .17 cal. to the back of the head was all it took.  You shouldn't have fucked with the birds dammit.   rev

The Care and Feeding of Your New Pet Cat

Rev

Often, we are of the mind to acquire a companion with which to share our time- some choose dogs, some cats, some are content with a goldfish or two while others opt for birds or reptiles. Nonetheless, we find that pet ownership can be a challenging and rewarding time. Though not always pleasant, time shared with a pet is at the least, memorable.

   What follows is my attempt to help you become aware of the requirements in time and effort which will be necessary for a satisfactory experience as a new pet cat owner.

  You should of course begin preparing for a new arrival by first pet-proofing your home -this means clearing all plants and breakables from the home. All curtains should be removed as these can lead to trouble once pussy gets his/her claws into the fabric and learns to climb to dizzying heights from which a fall may lead to injury. Plastic sheeting should be placed upon all furniture and floors as the new puss may take upwards of three years to learn to shit/piss in the proper pre selected location. In the kitchen, special care must be taken to sanitize cooking vessels and utensils as cats are notorious  for jumping up and walking around on the tables/counters - carrying  disease and bacteria throughout the home. All foodstuffs must be locked up behind strong doors to keep the inquisitive feline from eating at all hours of the day. A good and varied supply of food professionally prepared should be on hand to tempt the most finicky feline palates. These preparations should include representatives from both the dry and wet food suppliers so as to not allow the cat to become bored with any one preparation in particular. A good thick set of welding gloves should be kept on hand for when oral medications are to be administered to the future of the ailing cat, one may also stock up on various medications/tape, gauze, bandages, to administer to avoid repeated and expensive visits to a veterinarian/medical professional.
        

Once the new cat arrives in the home, care must be taken to avoid sudden movements and noises- any of which may send the cat into a frenzied escape attempt- one which no first time pet owner will enjoy experiencing. Sleeping arrangements must be prepared in advance- allow one extra bedroom for every cat in the house, all of which must be fitted with strong soundproof doors. Once the new cat decides which bedroom it will occupy, you, as a responsible pet owner should move all your belongings post haste into the other bedroom so as to not disturb his/her newly staked territory.
 Any attempt to re-establish your authority over home regimens will serve no valid purpose and only serve to further agitate the as of yet unsettled cat- I find it is best to sneak quietly from room to room, always avoiding direct eye contact for the first few months so as to not upset the cat and cause deeply set adverse behavioral problems. Try and change your sleep patterns right away- it is best to go nocturnal like the cat so as to be readily available should any crisis develop requiring your prompt attention.
 

The new cat should be carefully introduced to the outdoors for exercise purposes- some utilize a leash to a snugly fitted collar- caution!! This is only to be used on a properly conditioned cat or some serious problems will arise. I suggest that for the initial leash breaking in period that one employs a stout stick attached to a snugly fitted collar. In addition, an unbreakable fiberglass rod -four to five feet in length may be used for corrective measures if a battery powered shock collar is not available. Irregardless, this initial outdoor exposure should NOT be attempted without an observer- preferably one who can record for posterity a video record of the event. Once the new cat has been conditioned to behave and will walk quietly on a leash for a minimum of ten minutes the video-grapher may, if one so desires, be omitted from future walks. If, after two months of conditioning trials, the cat refuses to behave, one may attempt to slip some narcotics into the food so as to temper him down and make him more controllable on these outings- care must be taken not to overdose as this will bring on a whole new legion of problems which will have to be dealt with by professionals specifically trained in overdoses.

These cautions should not be interpreted as detrimental to leash walking as the potential joy one receives from leash walking a cat are so rewarding as to make all trials well worth the final experience.
  Bathing of your new cat is not only a medical necessity but also a time for close bonding between your pet and you- There are special shampoos available that will not irritate your cat’s skin- I highly recommend using them.  Once a warm bath is drawn and with the bath door firmly closed and blocked one may gently introduce your new pet to the joys of bath time. Begin by tightly grasping your pet after having first put on the welding gloves, one hand firmly around the neck- the other with a firm grasp on the back legs- then gently stretch your hands as far apart as they will comfortably go- this will ensure that in the event your pet does not care for water that you will be able to maintain control of the situation.  Once your pet has settled in to this position, carefully lower him/her into the warm bath, taking care not to interrupt the flow of air in and out of the mouth/nose- cats do not have gills and will not perform well with water in their lungs. The shampoo should have already been mixed with the bath water as hands are in short supply at this time as you will undoubtedly discover.  Now you should begin a gentle left and right movement with your cat- making sure at this critical juncture that your grasp has not loosened and that control has been maintained. Closely watch your pet as it will let you know when it thinks bath time is over and to further prolong this experience is not only dangerous but unnecessary.  Rinsing of the bath water is not required and will only serve to further excite both of you. Drying of the cat with a bath towel is also very dangerous and should only be attempted by women with whom you have no intentions of sharing sleeping arrangements. I find it is best to just release the freshly bathed cat and leave him to air dry- this may take some time but you will both be a lot happier with the results.

  Introductions of your cat to other animals such as dogs must also be done with the utmost of care- ensure that the dog is of sufficient size and maturity that he not be intimidated by the cat as this will not only embolden the cat but also will destroy whatever confidence the dog once had in himself.  My suggestion is to find someone with coon dogs as these dogs have experience with cats and a high degree of confidence already instilled in them from successful encounters with coons and feral cats. Be sure to have your cat on his training leash and a video-grapher on station as things may get quite interesting immediately after the introductions have been made. Do not be alarmed if the dog should pick the cat up with his mouth, this is perfectly natural and seems to heighten the excitement of the encounter.
 This should by no means be considered a complete manual on care and feeding but rather should be used only as an introductory guide to the wonderful world of cats.
 

The author assumes no responsibility for contents or suggestions contained here-in.  Good luck and god bless- Reverend

This fine specimen was the result of an unproductive day deer hunting.  The little fella showed his face at about thirty yards and met the business end of my .270. 

Bye Bye Cally

On occasion events occur that defy logic.  One such event recently occurred to me- this is how it all came about. It was the end of December, cold but not frigid, not much wind , I chanced to look out the kitchen window and spied a long hair calico walking up my driveway toward my shop. Just outside the shop was a small pile of deer carcasses which I assumed he was headed to.  The really strange thing is that I am rev, president of chaiokitty.Com- the  world's premier web site dedicated to the restoration of nature's balance. What would possess a cat to trespass here? Surely word has been out in the cat community to avoid my place like the plague, but obviously this long hair either thought he was exempt or had not been enlightened as to the hazards of trespassing here. As I moved to the gun cabinet to select my favorite cat puncher,  a Henry golden boy in .17 topped with a 3 by 9 scope I could still see 'ol long hair through the window still on track for the bone pile. As I eased open the door and snuck the barrel out, the calico, which was sitting on a carcass with his back to me swiveled his head around to see what was up. The crosshairs  quickly centered between the eyes and my well practiced trigger finger sent a nasty little chunk of lead at extremely high speed  right where it was supposed to go.  One less predator, one more story.  

Rev.

New Cat Bait Recipe

  Recipe for Cat bait

 Start by stealing beef short ribs from someone, place on side rack of grill as you cook chicken hind quarters. Begin drinking. Sprinkle spices on chicken, forget beef ribs. Let chicken cook till golden brown on one side, then flip rack of chicken. Look at cat bait, not worth it. Drink more beer. Sprinkle spices on other side of chicken. Flip chicken again after other side is golden brown. Flip cat bait. Drink more beer. After about 4 hours chicken should be done, and cooks are about baked too. Pick chicken up of of grill, place in roasters, and deliver to hungry people. Forget short ribs are still on the grill, too drunk to care now. Leave on grill, let sunshine finish cooking them for a week or so. Come home from work an a Friday, and while checking email, see cats are invading your territory. Eliminate cats.   Nutsack

Save the birds!

Living in the country as my family does, feral cats are a constant menace. One memorable harvest of said weapons of mass bird destruction, back yard here at the ranch was fenced in for the sake of my youngest child. On this frosty morning the north gate was open, not in a attempt to catch this beast, just worked out that way, anyways I'm in my garage and notice out the window a feline of unknown origin is sneaking through the gate, surely its thoughts were to lower the population of protected songbirds, spread illness, and or possible attack my children.....I must respond in a HOMELAND SECURITY fashion!!!!

 With deer season only days before my trusty 870 is sporting a 20 inch barrel, rifle sights smooth bore, screaming out to me, "Feed me some high brass 6's", I heed the call stuff in 3 rounds, can't be to careful just in case the deranged feral charges!!  As I head into the back yard, I close the gate behind me, no way out but in a body bag now!! The intruding four legged roaming litter box must of smelled the Hoppe's #9, he kicks it into high gear due east for the fence....in his haste fails to realize the 2x2 holes in chain link fence don't allow his flea bit head through, much less the rest of the fur lined assassins body.  At this point I got a perty good chuckle out of watching him hit the fence bounce back 2 feet then try again!!  Meanwhile safety disengaged, target acquired, only a couple pounds force between kitty and Hell where we know all cats go!!!!   The first shot stops the rebound action, cat..fence..cat..fence..the second shot clears up any rumors of survival. As I pick up the feline fur ninja, the sound and feel of all the tail joints popping was near nirvana.

 If only we can make this kind of a difference everyday, wouldn't it be a great world.

From a new chaiokitty member-Thanks!

Bird huntin with boy and the dog

I was hunting pheasants with my boy who just turned fourteen. We were working farmsteads and road ditches looking for the birds - had a pretty green German shorthair on a short line- if you have ever worked one of these dogs you will know that they are pretty headstrong and it's best if you don't pack a gun or the dog would end up catchin lead- my shorthair hated fetching but was really good at pointing stuff so I put up with his lackluster performance in retreiving- my boy had not spent much time afield - he lived with his mommy(the bitch from hell) and I had to work most of my weekends trying to make child support payments - the few times I was able to take off I would share as much time with the boy as I could but hunting seasons don't last very long up nort eh? And time always seemed to come at a premium- well, this day was not particularily good for pheasants- strong wind and spittin snow but we were out after it anyhow - my arm felt like it wasn't going to be able to take too much more tuggin from the dog - so I clipped the danglin balls on his collar and let him go- after a brief burst of speed he slowed down a bit and stuck his nose in the grass and immediately got birdy - I hollared at the boy and we hurried up and closed the distance to the dog so as to be in prime shootin formation if the dog busted a rooster. I got close enough to catch up with the lead line once the dog locked up and picked it up so I could check him when the bird flushed. I waded slowly through the grass - all the time talkin to the dog - coachin him to hold fast- about five feet from the nose I told the boy to get ready as shit was gonna happen soon. One more step and out from the grass busted a tiger gray- between my legs and hauling ass back the direction we had come I hollered " get him boy" and all hell broke loose- the dog came unglued and took off after the cat- dammed near jerkin my already tired arm off while from the boy came, in quick succession, three loads of seven n a halfs that were chasin the puss down the roadditch- it didn't look to me like he connected with any of em so I quickly unclipped the balls from the dog and turned him loose- whooooieee- git 'em boy- Now I don't know if any of you have seen a shorthair chasin after a cat but it sure is a pretty sight- them dogs sure can cover some ground in a short period of time and it wass't no more 'n ten seconds and the dog introduced himself to the cat. A couple of shakes and the cat quit playing- now a lot of you probably think that I shouldn't encourage a bird dog to kill cat but dammit- the way I see it was that cat wern't up to no good being out in that road ditch anyhow- we never did put up a bird that day but what the heck- I considered it a good day anyhow- one up- one down

Astrocat

It all started once upon a time when I received in the mail a catalogue from Edmund scientific- this catalogue had all kinds of neat stuff in it but what really caught my eye was weather balloons- they had em and I wanted one- when it arrived the instructions said that when filled with helium it would lift a seventeen pound payload- I had in mind a simple experiment- was it really possible that a cat would always land on its feet. I was about to find out- the plan was to fill the weather balloon and suspend a cat from the balloon and then after launch I would shoot the balloon when it got a couple hundred yards in the air and then I could see if the cat could indeed land on its feet- - a candidate was selected for the experiment-( had to have one that wasn’t too hard to handle) the one I came across was really nice and easy to handle and I set about conditioning him for the flight- he was a little heavy so he went on a strict diet for a few days - once all conditions were favorable I filled the weather balloon with helium and tethered it to three ground stakes so I could have time to get astrocat securely strapped into his flight suit- the flight suit fit him very well- it had a sticky interior so he wouldn’t prematurely and unfortunately slip out and spoil the experiment- it also had a silvery-gray exterior which I figured would be good for reflecting harmful solar rays which I have heard are quite strong in the upper atmosphere. All was in readiness - clear skies - light southerly wind, high-powered semi-auto rifle at the ready- after some last minute instructions for astrocat the tethering strings were cut and whooooosh!! Up goes the weather balloon and astrocat up,up,up and away- in the time it took me to pick up my rifle the balloon was just a speck in the sky. There was no chance I could hit the balloon now, obviously the weather balloon people had misjudged the lifting capacity of helium because I think this balloon would have taken fifty pounds aloft- I was expecting a slightly positive lift buoyancy - a lazy float aloft- but this one took off like it had a Saturn v rocket attached.

Astrocat leveled off at an elevation where the big airplanes fly and headed north and perhaps a little west- I watched him for prob ten minutes. And every now and again I could hear him meow so I knew he was going to be ok- I figured he had ended up as a pile of polar bear shit since I had never heard from him again but just last week I was telling the story again and the guy I was telling it to said that he had heard of astrocat coming down into a downtown area of a small college town only forty-fifty miles from here- he said there was quite a hullabaloo over the landing- as well there should have been- it’s not every day that a good ‘ol cat is brave enough to take to the skies in the interest of science

Cats are dangerous to nature; I kill everyone that I see roaming the wilds.  I dream of the day someone tries to get me arrested for it, or attempts to sue me for killing their pet.  I have a lawyer friend who is frothing at the mouth to countersue the irresponsible, negligent, reckless pet owner for letting their pet out wandering around-with full knowledge they kill protected species.

chaio fan -keep up the good work!  Get those PF folks informed.

Comrades,

My daily business requires me to travel, sometimes extensively. Never by air, always by truck. My view of traveling is that if I can drive 10 mph over the speed limit, I can save 10 minutes on every hour of travel. This philosophy would suggest that I am capable of passing a few vehicles throughout the course of an extensive trip. Passing these cars allows me to observe many different vehicular rear ends.

One morning while traveling between Madison and Milwaukee, Wisconsin on Hwy 94, I came upon a Ford Explorer with a tinted glass window on the back and a familiar sticker on the window. Immediately upon recognizing the Chaiokitty.com sticker, I slowed down next to their vehicle and reached for my greeting card, you know, the one with all the dead cats hanging from the door that chaiokity has.

I flashed the card to the two in the Explorer and they began whoopin and hollerin, laughing with thumbs held up. We all laughed and cheered as we drove side by side down the road for a few until they turned off.

My opinion, we were drawn together as members of a unique organization. Without the sticker in their window, or me without my card, we never would have recognized each other. Keep up the good work fellow chaiosters and be proud.

Till we meet down the road,

Minnesota Fan

Email received

 I don’t hate cats, but I bought a membership anyway. I have two cats, one indoors and the other out. The outdoor cat will not come in. I know it catches birds and mice as I have seen this. I agree indoors is the place for cats and any caught outdoors should be considered fair game by all.

LA, CA

Response

LA, CA-Thanks for your email. Chaiokitty.com and our members agree with you. Not all of us hate cats either…some, but not all. What we do have in common is that we all recognize how feral cats threaten the balance of nature. We appreciate your display of support.

Chaiokitty.com

Email received

 FYI-Iowa archers receive surveys from the Iowa DNR each fall. The DNR asks for input such as dates hunted, # of hours in the field, #’s and sex of deer observed each day as well as other species observed such as turkey, fox, coyote, opossum, skunk and feral cats. My guess is that the DNR recognizes the cat as a threat to not only the species the cats hunt, but also a threat to their jobs. Any reduction to the numbers of game birds will impact the numbers of licenses sold both resident and non. Try selling licenses with no bird populations.

Chelsea

Response

FYI Chelsea

I am the one of the bowhunters on the Chaio board. I received the same survey you must have. As Chaiokitty is a new group, I never before paid attention to all the species on that survey until this past fall. I contacted the DNR number on the survey to inquire as to whether the cat had been listed on previous surveys or if it was a recent addition. The man I spoke with said the survey had not changed since it had begun years ago. This same individual also referred me to the website Iowadnr.com where you can actually breakdown regionally within Iowa the numbers of feral cats seen per hunting hour in the field. This was interesting.  Thanks for the note and keep up the good work.

Chaio for now

This is a no-brainer, you would think every member of Pheasants Forever, Ducks Unlimited and hunters and nature lovers in general would join this, whether they like cats or not.  People just need to keep em' inside or risk the consequences of being eliminated by Humane Society, Animal Control, or chaiokitty supporters.  Hell, even PeTA helps get rid of the un-adoptables.  The pet owners are the ones breaking the laws and doing damage to nature..... somebody needs to step in.

Hunting Episode

One fall day, a friends and me were out doing some pheasant hunting. It was cold, overcast, and lightly raining. There were 5 of us and two dogs. We were working a dredge ditch with a buffer strip on one side. Previous years this place has been a hot bed for pheasants. However this year was surprisingly lean on birds. As we approached about 500 yards from the end, I spotted the culprit responsible for the lack of birds. A feral cat was also hunting the same spot as us. He spotted me as I spotted him and he turned and headed for the end of the dredge ditch. I yelled at our man on post to take out the invader, and forget any birds that might come up. As we approached, two birds flushed and headed right for my man on stand. As the birds got into his range, the cat also appeared out the weeds. As per my instructions, his first shot was on the cat, a full load of magnum 4 shot. And since he had a new semi-automatic shotgun, he also dropped both birds. I was never so proud as I was at that moment. However, the cat was a little tougher than I gave him credit for, he was trying to crawl off. I just happen to carry a handgun while bird hunting, just in case of emergencies. I walked up and finished him off with a shot to the back of the head.

The Pole Cat

Way back when, I had this German shorthaired dog- a good kill dog and he had his own way of workin birds but we got along pretty good usually. This ol dog had a hatred for cats that must've gone back a long way, cause near as I can remember he never got along with 'em and I had him since he was but a wee thing. We had a system that worked pretty good for us- this was in the days long before cratin dogs for travel came into vogue- He would generally let me drive and he would ride shotgun with his nose pressed to the windshield- he must have figgered he could see em first if his eyes were closer to 'em. We would travel the gravel roads and he would be on the lookout for anything interesting and if something caught his eye he would look over at me to see if I had seen it yet- if I happened to see something he didn't I would point it out for him and laugh at him for sleepin on the job- We had been partnered up for prob five years - making a pretty good team actually - seems like after a while a guy can tend to know what a dog is thinking and truth be know there is prob some it goes the other way too.

One day in particular we were cruising the gravels and we came across a big tomcat just sitting on a fence post- a most unusual occurrence in our travels but there he was- big as life- he looked to be an old cat- pretty good sized and looking mean enough to chew nails but the dog didn't much care- he wanted a piece of him and was determined to have himself some if I would just go ahead and get the damned door open. I told him - " now I am gonna let ya out but first I think you should know that this ain't gonna be no cake walk for ya- this cat looks seasoned and you may have a little trouble with him" "open the door" "I said you sure you don't wanna just let this one go?" "OPEN DOOR!!" well ok then- get after it - I pulled the latch and the dog hit the door and opened himself up into what would become a most memorable outing- The tomcat came off the pole and met the dog half-way- there was a flurry of activity and pretty soon the shorthair took to yelping- seems the tom had somehow ducked under the jaws of death and was holdin on with his front legs and biting with his teeth and raking with his back legs and that poor ol dog couldn't get that ol tom shook loose- I scrambled for the shotgun and loaded up a couple rounds cause it was looking like my dog was gonna get his ass kicked- I hollared at the dog to let the cat go and I would soften him up a little for him but ol dog just looked at me and took to howlin some more- whooooieee the fur was flying! Git him boy !! Whup his ass!! But that ol tom just held on tight and kept biting and scratchin and raking at the dogs soft underbelly- whooooieeeee!! Git 'em boy!! - It sure seemed like it took a long time but it probably wasn't much more than a minute before the dog got him shook loose and gave me a chance to soften tommy up with some seven an a halfs- the dog went right back in and put the finish to the tom then looked to me like it was MY fault he got his ass whupped!! And here all this time I thought a dog was sposed to respect his owner!

You would think perhaps that he would have learnt his lesson but if anything, the experience with the pole cat just seemed to get the dog all the more fired up about kickin cat ass. He went on to develop some what of a reputation as a cat-ass whupper- sure did hate to see that old dog die- been hard to find another dog that don't come right out and call me a liar when I relate some of the old dog stories. 

Rev

Top 10 Irrefutable Feral Cat Facts

The scientific names of domestic and wild are different: Felis sylvestris lybica is the scientific name for the ancestral wild cat species originating in Northern Africa, while the domestic cat subspecies has been named Felis sylvestris catus.

Population Estimates: Over 100 million cats, (specifically Felis sylvestris catus), feral or domestic, pets or free ranging, owned or un-owned, however you care to look at it.

The species and estimated quantities of birds/mammals killed annually by feral cats: Small mammals and birds comprise about 90% of a cats diet with the additional 10% consisting of various small animals, the species of which reflecting food available locally.

Diseases spread to humans and other mammals: Feline leukemia, feline distemper and an immune deficiency disease have been spread to domestic cats, mountain lions as well as the endangered Florida panther. Diseases spread to humans consist of rabies and toxoplasmosis.

Numbers of birds killed annually. Numbers of birds killed in Wisconsin alone annually are estimated between 8 and 217 million. It is nationally estimated that feral cats kill over a billion small mammals and hundreds of millions of birds annually. It is also thought that cat predation is second only to loss of habitat in terms of the extinction of bird species.

Estimated losses due to feral cats. Economic impacts will vary depending on use, such as consumptive or non-consumptive. Cats eat whatever is abundant locally so if you hunt pheasants in South Dakota, a colony of 80 cats will pose a problem to the pheasant population. If you photograph bluebirds in Iowa, that same colony of cats will limit your photo opportunities.

Many states do not regulate shooting or hunting of feral cats. Shooting or hunting of feral cats has been referred to by many as humane euthanasia. If you contact your state DNR, be specific when requesting regulations. You may be surprised to find there are no restrictions or regulations when taking feral cats.

Feral cat populations doubled in a 20 year period. Estimates based on U.S. Census data from 1970 to 1990 conclude the population of feral cats nation wide has escalated from 30 million to 60 million. The number is currently estimated at over 100 million.

Impact on threatened/endangered species. Not only is it confirmed that feral and/or domestic cats have spread disease to threatened and/or endangered species, but that cats also compete with naturally existing native species for food often forcing native species out of their natural environment.

The breeding habits of feral cats are adding to the extinction of 26 subspecies of cat. It is Important to recognize that all subspecies may breed with each other. Most Felis sylvestris subspecies are specific to certain geographical locations with primary exception of the domestic cat. The domestic cat has been circulated throughout the world by humans and has been allowed through feral nature to breed with other subspecies. This has created the effect of “watering down” the genetics of pre-existing naturally existing subspecies and is adding to the extinction of each naturally existing subspecies.

Cats are no good at playing fetch. This has no scientific merit but is a result of simple observation.

All sources of this information are credible, objective and may be found on link page of web site.

Top 10 Liberal Arguments Challenged by Chaiokitty.com

1. Cost of reducing feral cat populations through TNR is cost effective: In comparison to what? In comparison to shooting one on sight when the opportunity arises in the field? We do not agree. Although some funding for TNR is through donations from private sources, mostly tax dollars are spent on grants for agencies and organizations to conduct TNR as well as for TNR studies.

2. TNR is a more effective means of control than humane euthanasia: Thousands of veterinarians cannot be wrong! TNR does not work nor will it ever. Aside from that, according to the American Bird Conservancy, TNR may not even be legal and argued as unconstitutional. Don’t be lazy….read the links!

3. Feral cats do not impose a threat to natural wildlife: Feral cats have been classified as not only a threat to naturally existing wildlife through predation, but a potential threat to the naturally existing 25 other subspecies of Felis sylvestris.

4. Feral cats do not spread diseases: Feline leukemia, distemper, rabies, toxoplasmosis and a feline immunodeficiency disorder are all spread from feral cats to humans, domestic cats another species within the Felis genus. Some diseases have been linked to a reduction in numbers of naturally existing Felis species.

5. Feral cats have little negative economic impact existing in the wild: Felis sylvestris catus, living anywhere out of doors, is a negative drain not only on wildlife populations, but also your tax dollars. Over 50 million dollars, largely tax dollars are spent annually of TNR, vaccinations, studies, etc. Now lets address the impact on game bird species such as turkey, pheasant, grouse, quail, and partridge to name a few. Next, lets discuss the impact the feral cat has on song birds and the bird watching industry. Though non-consumptive in nature, this is big business. This is probably why the Audubon Society prescribes the “cats indoors” approach with regards to this cat species.

6. Seek to stabilize and maintain health feral cat populations: Pardon my French but “What the hell!” We, nor our subscribers, care to see feral cats in the wild, healthy or otherwise, as this defeats our purpose. Again we assert our message. Feral cats are jeopardy to song bird, game bird, and endangered species populations and will be considered an economic drain as a result of their existence in the wild.

7. Feed them and they will not be a threat to native species: Feed them and they are patient and extremely efficient predators as a result.

8. Caretakers feed, water, monitor (manage) feral cat colonies/populations post TNR: Statistics show that these caretakers provide shelter, food and water. They then use these new colonies in their statistics to demonstrate a reduction in feral cat numbers as these new managed colonies are no longer considered homeless. How convenient.

9. Feral cats deserve our compassion and protection and should be treated as equals in the animal kingdom: Is that an argument you care to employ when considering the relationship between rats and your basement, or bats in your attic? That is one warm, fuzzy statement that is based on personal perspective. Leave the poor feral cat alone so he may raise havoc on nature, but poison the rat in the basement so he does not spread disease in the home.

10. Predation on native wildlife is minimal: You don’t find many who will say this outright but look at it. If predation was actually considered a problem by TNR activists, do you think they would be in such a hurry to release the ferals back into the wild? The wildlife, nor economic impacts are recognized by these groups. If so, they are highly under rated.

All sources of this information are credible, objective, and may be found on link page of web site.

Aldo Leopold states within his Sand County Almanac, “Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of the wolf.” This statement will always lead me to think about the delicate balance of nature.

The domestic cat, an introduced subspecies as a result of human laziness, recklessness or sheer lack of understanding as to its negative consequence as it pertains to Leopold’s statement, does not, did not nor ever will belong in the wild.

Just tryin’ to get groceries!

So here I was at my local grocer getting already cooked food for my evening entree when the little darling behind the counter spoke up- " I saw your business card" to which I replied - you probably don't like me then- she said "I have cats"  I said so do I - so she said well why do you shoot them then- I said cause when you town people get a kitty and then it throws up and starts shitting and pissing in your house then chewing up your plants and sharpening its claws on your fifteen hundred dollar sofa.  So you take it for a ride in the country and throw it out the window- THAT'S when we have a problem- cause I don't want YOUR cat so I have to take care of it. I like birds and bunnies a hellova lot more'n I like your sofa clawing, house shitting, projectile vomiting cat, so that's what we do- she said well ok then, I can see your point. I said - do yourself a favor and check out our website and read all the links- then you will be a little more informed about why people like us are needed.- (I think I won that round) erv

Cat Scratched

There he was, a prize black and white-all alone in the wild along a narrow country road. And there I was, all alone with no one to steer. Now I consider myself a multi-tasker, however it takes special talent, when in the process of pouring the morning cup of coffee to drop the thermos, abruptly end the conversation on the cell phone, reach for the rifle on the floor in the back seat, steer between the ditches and most importantly, keep a vigil on the specimen at large.

After successfully accomplishing about 80% of the aforementioned challenges, I climbed out of the truck, locked in the front hubs, put the truck into 4 X 4 mode and drove out of the right ditch. After disengaging the lockouts, I completed the 100 yard jaunt to the cattail patch marking the last appearance of said specimen.

It had to be around here somewhere. These things are very, very sneaky and very hard to catch so persistence in necessary. I am looking intensely for the beast when the cell phone rings. Immediately, like the strike of a cobra and without taking my eyes off the cattail patch, I reach over and press the silence button on the phone. Once again, surrounded by nature’s silence, I continue down the country road in my stealthy diesel truck in search of the specimen. As I pass the cattail patch, I knew this trophy was close and as I thoroughly gaze the…DAMN PHONE! Again I shut it off.

Now gazing the corn rows beyond the cattail patch I spy my trophy. About two corn rows in, he thought he was undetectable. What he did not know was that nothing escapes the trained eye of this professional. Crouched close to the ground the length of the truck from my barrel, he stood no chance. As I gently squeezed the trigger like I had practiced so many times before for just such an occasion, I heard a loud “BANG”. Surprised by the loud echo of the gunshot as it reverberated through the cab of the truck, I saw my trophy reach new heights. Upon the trophy’s last breath, I noticed he had taken with him about a bushel of my neighbor’s corn as a result of his senseless flopping around.

Thanks for playin
Ritalin

Pa Jensen's favorite pussy cake

You will need:

• One cat- color unimportant- lightly killed
• Three large eggs
• One cup milk
• One cup wheat flour
• Qt tomato paste
• Twelve box fav beer chilled

Open first beer- drink- mix together in bowl with fork- flour and three eggs shells removed- add milk and continue mixing to paste like consistency- open second beer- drink- spoon bowl contents onto waxed paper set aside- open third beer- drink- prepare lightly killed cat by removing outside parts and the messy inside parts- open fourth beer- drink- put meat part of cat on cutting board and spank with tenderizing hammer making sure to remove all traces of nasty stuff- open fifth beer- drink- put spanked cat in bowl and pour bottom half of fifth beer over meat- open beer number six- drink- take short nap- open third bear- drink- rummage around in fridge for something to eat what this mess on table? Throw gob of sticky stuff in garbage- wax paper too- open second beer drink- what tomater past for? Put back in cupboard - watch football game dink beer take nother nap

Rev and the Deputy

Now come n'listen to a story bout a man named jed- poor mountaneer barely kept his family fed- welll that ain't exactly right but it ain't too far off- what I'm going to do is tell you the story about the Christmas card- my buddy and I were out hunting cats one day and doing ok- piled up quite a few of em and it occurred to us to take a picture of em and send it out to friends as a Christmas card of sorts- we sent the negatives off to some place out east and got the picture turned into a card- we got fifty of em and after writing "hope you get as much pussy as we do" on the cards we sent them off and sat back and waited for a response..........it didn't take long and we were the talk of the town- we were a huge success- sure there were a few who thought we were sick bastards but you'll have that- but for the most part there was a warm reception- all of a sudden I was recognized almost wherever I went- I had attained my fifteen minutes of fame, whooohoooo the Christmas card was in very high demand - everyone wanted one but there were none to be had. Those who were lucky enough to have received a card were not letting go of it and there were just so many who were asking for one we decided to get some more cards made the following year.

So off we went and sent for some more cards to the place out east that would make em- we waited and waited and the cards just didn't show up. Then one day a deputy sheriff showed up where I was working and told me it was time for a chat- he invited me to sit in his car with him so I of course did- once the small talk was over he said, " what I have to know about is this" and he produced our new Christmas card- I looked at it and said "oooh, they turned out really good!!!" the deputy said the county attorney had sent him to find out just how it was these cats came to be dead, I told him I didn't know for sure, they were all dead when I picked them up, some wer laying on the road , some were piled up in the ditch. He said " well it looks like this one was shot" I replied " well, maybe it was, I wouldn't know about that, it was dead when I picked it up." so- I asked where were the rest of the cards and he said I had to go see the county attorney to get them. SO, one day I went to see the county attorney, told him who I was and requested that he give my cards to me- he said "no." I said "please" he said "no" so I left, what else could I do? After a couple of days, talking to friends, and thinking over the situation I was in, I was not all too sure I wanted to pursue the matter but as time went , I started gitting pissed and decided to pursue the matter- I called a FBI field agent I knew from an earlier incident and told the story to him and asked what to do to get the county attorney to turn the cards over to me- he said to call the state postal inspector as there were rules against holding one's mail.

So yep, I called the state postal inspector and told the story to him, he said that the cards had come to him from the developing place with instructions to forward to the attorney for the county of my residence to see if there were and laws with which they could prosecute me- he than said that he had been in law enforcement for twenty seven years and in all that time he had never seen anything as cool as this card that we had made- Whew!!! That sure took a load off my chest!. After talking with him for a while he said that it was indeed against the law for the county attorney to withhold my mail and that he, the state postal inspector, would get the cards returned to me. EXCELLENT!! I waited and waited and no cards arrived, I called my new buddy postal inspector and he said he was having trouble getting ahold of the county attorney, he was always out of the office. This went on for quite a while- Christmas time was getting close and we really needed these cards to get them out in the mail soon so I kept calling every couple of weeks to check up on it. MEANWHILE- I learn that one of the cards had made the rounds of a state department of natural resources meeting where all the wardens were present the card was passed around, I guess to see if anyone knew who the other guy in the pic was but nobody fessed up to knowing him- no problem from the wardens- they know how much wildlife is destroyed by cats.

Back to the story, Finally, one day when I called the state postal inspector he said that he had the situation handled- he said he had gotten tired of playing phone tag with the county attorney and had gotten in his car and drove to this town and walked into the county attorney's office and after showing his badge and his gun told the secretary to fetch the guy he said the co. att. came skulking from a back room- he said he laid down the law in no uncertain terms for the county attorney and we laughed and laughed about that , yes we did. a few days later the cards showed up in the mail and we got right down to the business of addressing them and getting them sent out, I called the state postal inspector to thank him for going to bat for me, and asked if it would be ok if I sent him a card, he said he would love that, he would put it right up there on his fridge for all to enjoy, so I sent him one too. If there is a moral to this story, let it be this... if you are ever going to take pictures of dead cats -if the shit starts coming down - just say they were legally harvested in either the state of south dakota or minnesota and that should be the end of it.

Spanky and the Cardboard Box

(  #1 in the series)

This story revolves around Spanky-the story wouldn’t be a story without describing him.  Physically he is a baby faced plump 19 year old-his eyes were always wide with excitement with the next episode in his life that he would create, because patience was not his virtue and if something wasn’t happening……..he would make something happen.  He reminded me of a baby a who’s eyes light up when they see that bottle coming in.  His body language and personality mimics that of John Belushi in Animal House.  He also was a fan of the Duke; so imagine a short fat baby faced guy with buzzed hair imitating John Wayne.  Spanky loved to party, shoot weapons, and most of all, kill cats.

Spanky lived with a room mate in a trailer the edge of town with an infestation of cats under the deck.  When they were shopping for a trailer to live in they went no further than their current abode.  I think this cat’s under the deck feature was more appealing than indoor plumbing or free rent.  The landlord gave them free rein to PLEASE get rid of the nuisance bastards.  “Aw shucks” they guffawed, “don’t know if we could hurt one of them darn kitty’s but if you say so, we’ll do our best”……whatever, imagine those baby eyes again only this time he is just sparkling with anticipation of events to come and it probably forced a refried bean fart out of him that added yet another layer of grease to his shorts.  It must be known that our favorite eating establishment at the time had 25 cent bean and cheese burritos (Tue-Thurs).  If we would have done the math we could have made them for 10 cents, but ordering them was fun.  It was like “who can order and eat more burritos” auction.  Spanky swaggers to the counter and imitates The Duke, “Well if you’re gonna have 9, I’ll go 10, pilgrim” Stef says, “only queers down a ten, give me a cool dozen”.  It was as and entertaining Hulk Hogan macho show of the eating variety for the ever changing young, female, giggling counter staff.  We would all try to “one up” the other till we got into the dozen per person zone-it usually tapered off there since you HAD to eat all you ordered and no puking for 30 minutes.  Of course Spanky (with all the cool talent) could puke on demand, a very nice skill if you got kicked out of a club for being too young-just yak on the bouncer, you’d be surprised how quickly they let go with a face full of vomit made of Coors light and bean burritos.  This spontaneous puking feature wasn’t any big goober type of thing…….oh no, Spankster made Linda Blair look like a trickling drinking fountain at the elementary school.  I’m here to tell ya’ the boy could spew.

I first learned of his obsession with feral eradication when I visited him one morning to go 4 wheeling.  I knocked on his trailer door and no answer from him or his room mate (another killing machine).  I stuck my head in the door taking a high risk of a beer can or lawn dart getting launched at my cranium.  Hulk Hogan was the hero of the era; and we were all prodigies and continually tested each others reaction time and pain levels through various body slams, sharp item throwing, and, of course, drunken head butting.  I heard some voices out back and then spied the demented duo on the back deck with their compound bows pointing and, of course, drinking beer.  I yelled, “What the fuck ya huntin’ out there-you cum burping gutter sluts”.  My reply was a raised leg and blast of refried.  I came out onto the back deck and saw they had a cardboard box in the back yard about 30 yds away.  It had a few arrows in it from various sides, as if the box had been spun a few times….just then a loud yowl emitted from the cardboard cage and it sort of slid/hopped a few inches.  Spank just grinned, swayed back and forth with a little Duke accent and said “If that box moves Mississippi, give it to em…. with both barrels”.  The box moved the demented duos nocked, locked and let fly.  The sound was sssssssshhhthump.  Two more kicks on the side of the box from the captive and it was over.

I spent more than a few nights sipping that cold rocky mountain spring water & hops watching spankster with blowguns, wrist rockets, and his favorite bow work on satisfying his landlord’s wishes.

A Sad Sheltie Story

 This story happened a few years back while I was still married to my second wife.

 We had a dog, a sheltie by breed, one of those three colored ones- not a bad dog as dogs go- kinda minded his own business but was there when ya needed him.  Also had, (at wifes insistence) a couple of cats- ordinary barn variety, they were all male, so was the dog.   Well,  the Sheltie and the cats took to living life easy- sheltie figured out early on that he wasn't tough enough to kill the cats and the cats figured out the same so they settled down into some sort of mutually agreed upon co-existence.  Time went on and for the most part peace was kept amongst them.

 I don't know when things started going wrong but one day I caught 'em at it- the sheltie had ahold of one of the cats and was corn-holing it for all he was worth.  Being the sick bastard that I am I thought this was pretty good entertainment and managed to offer words of encouragement to the dog. After that episode, things once again settled down for a little while- maybe a week or so but then damned if I didn't catch 'em at it again. ok, I am thinking, once is funny- twice is sick - not wanting to be a party to any more of this crap the gun got loaded and discharged- killing the cat stone dead- then I got to thinking about how the dog seemed to be getting way too much pleasure from his immoralities so I shot him too. Case closed.

Spanky and the Ratchet strap

(#2 in the Series)

If you haven’t read Spanky and the cardboard box, do yourself a favor caus ya gotta understand Spanko!

This episode started mid morning in a drive through at Mac and Dons  (which was waaay out in the country with nothing around).  Stef and Joe were in front, Spanky and I were in the back of the open top jeep.  We’re waiting for our turn to order and Spanky spied Morris no more than 30 yds from the jeep.  So he hops out, and moseys over to the feline using his favorite John Wayne saunter. Morris wasn’t interesting in Spanko at first, perhaps he read about Spanky and the Cardboard Box.  Morris moved, then Spanky moved, Morris, Spanky, then Spank brought out the secret weapon-a kitty treat from his pocket.  He looked back at the jeep with a wry grin and nodded to us as Morris tentatively came to him to get the treat.  Spank just picked him up and walked back to the jeep-it was as if he were in some sort of love trance.  Heavy petting ensued while we were waiting for our food.  The gal at the window said “Oh, that’s such a pretty kitty, where did you get him?”  We all just turned to Spank and he spouted without hesitation, oh he’s just a stray.  Spank was of course thinking, stupid bitch, the question should be, “Oh, where are you going to get him”?

We pulled out of Mac and Dons onto the interstate on our way to the local TNR facility to drop off Morris-that’s when it got ugly.  It seems Morris had never been in a open vehicle, clearly not with Spanky, and the combination was a bit much for his nerves and he began to squirm to get out.  Well we’re on the interstate moving at a high rate of beer consumption and couldn’t very well stop to let him out.  It was about this time that Morris went from squirmier to hissier, so, in order to protect himself till we got to our destination, Spanky donned his welding gloves.  The hissing transformed to clawing and spanky had his hands full keeping Morris from all of us, claws were flying and the tail was spinning as Spanky held him at a safe distance.  Our thoughts turned to just let the kitty go, but it was sort of fun watching spank getting his ass kicked.  Spank tried to quiet Morris by applying a gentle submission hold, but Morris had been watching Saturday night cage fights through someone’s window and squirmed out of the hold.  Spank held him on the floor with one hand and his bleeding foot then grabbed a rolled up ratchet strap with the other hand and tried to dork him on the head-he missed and the ratchet strap started to unravel.  This was a hefty 20 foot 2 inch ratchet strap that was now being tangled in the hand, foot and clawing snarling fur ball on the floor.

You must know that during this episode Spanky is receiveing huge support from the other passengers.  Such comments as:

 “Hey can I get you another beer, oh I’m sorry you look busy, I’ll drink it for you” 

“Hey Spank that’s one wild pussy, would you share after it gets done with you?”

OOH, Ouch, How many stitches is that gonna take to close>

Do you want a real man to take care of your small problems?

You really do like cats don’t you-

OOOH morris is a bad bad puddy tat, he just bit yo finga!

So Spanky with his welding gloves wrapped around the ball o’ ratchet strap with the cat trying to claw its way out attempts an “over the shoulder out the top/back of the jeep” ejection of the furious, furry, feline passenger.  Well, now the fun begins because the strap hook catches on something and unravels out the end of the jeep going down the interstate……with Morris hanging on to the end.  Spank has a look of disbelief and horror, we just roar with laughter.  Spank can’t get the strap loose from its stuckdom and Morris starts clawing his way up the strap (no minor feat going 70 Mph on the interstate wagging in the wind).  Spanky is trying to shake him off the strap and we are dumping beer on Spanky saying the poor tiddy tat just wants you to pet him!  With one enormous jerk on the strap Spanky gets it loose from its catchdom and now he is holding it in the air (with his bleeding arm and still wearing the welding gloves).  He lets loose just as Morris is within scratching distance of the jeep.  Got to say they don’t ALWAYS land on their feet.

Slapaho

Some Great Tips and Tails submitted by a dedicated member

We try to get out every time we can after the regular hunting seasons are over, 3 / 4 days a month plus a couple cruises right after work during the week. We call it "triple c" season: cats, crows & coyotes. We run the normal abandoned farmsteads and fence lines but the real treasures are the public hunting areas. People that don't want cats throw them out on Saturday nights at the public hunting parking areas. This is because they are easy to get to and because they feel like they are doing them a favor by dumping them there...not if we see them!!!

Sunday morning is primetime. Also there are lots of "Christmas presents" that get taken out and dumped this time of the year.

Cat Rut

The cat rut was originated by a friend of mine who has actually studied this and contacted animal breeders about it. We aren't making this shit up, its' a real thing. They confirmed that even though the filthy little pricks breed all of the time they are at their peak in late January - mid February. That is when the young toms are out the most and many of the Fall born females first come in. It may not be called "a rut" by technical people but it sounds alot cooler.

Point system:

Free range cat (wild cat) - 2 points

Free range Tom (wild cat)-2 bonus points

Town cat (see bow kill below) - 3 points

One that has walked on my Roadrunner - priceless (also considered unnecessary carnage)

Kitten (face it...these are just small cats) - 1 point

High power kill - 1 point

Bow kill - 5 points (typically used in close quiet situations)

Shotgun kill - 1 point

Pistol kill - 2 points

Over 100 yards - 2 bonus points

Siamese - 3 points

These points are tallied for the entire season. (January 10 - March 1)

Example: Wild Tom cat shot at 125 yards with a highpower = 7 points

My preferred equipment:

Ruger 25 -.06 with Leopold scope 90g ballistic tip

Ruger 44 mag with Leopold scope 180g hollow point

Savage 7mm Mag w\Nikon scope 150g hollow point

 Nikon binoculars

Thanks Buck! chaiokitty staff

Spanky vs Sammy Siamese

(#3 in the series)

This is the third in a many part series, so you must read Spanky and the cardboard box, and Spanky and the Ratchet Strap to really appreciate the rest of this story.
Anyone remember the sound of the sports announcer Kieth Jackson? Whowwwwwwwwwoooooooo neeellllllllie look at Spanky joe go down the gravel road-that chuuuuuby fucker sure can move!. ……….use your imagination.
Spanky was on the search for a feral trophy-a loose running Siamese. Now if you know anyone who has one in the house, they will tell you that they can be nasty…..If anyone has seen them in the wild, the same holds true.

A good place you can find such a critter is in the wilds of South Dakota where they have bored themselves with biting and the kids scratching the furniture, and shitting on the carpet, it has moved on to massacre multiple pheasant nests. Our hero Spanky is on patrol. He had been tipped off by one of his farmer informants of a couple ferals prowling the neighborhood looking for chicks, one had the markings of Sammy. The farmer simply said there’s a couple of those kind we don’t take kindly to and I’d appreciate you putting them where they need to be. Pheasant hunting is big business in South Dakota and they understand the need to keep ferals in check.

Twas a sunny June morning, and Spanky had his decked out mini-14 lubed up, banana clips taped, and new ammo hand loaded for a little trip around the countryside. This was prime nesting season so any kill today was saving lots of pheasant chicks. He wheeled his dirty old Chevy north on a mimimal maintenance road with the dust swirling up behind him. He stopped on a high spot and decided to spot for awhile. He had a beer, ate some peanuts, and released a couple odiferous blasts, wishing a hunting partner were with him to enjoy. Upon cracking his next brew ( I DID say dust swirled didn’t I- maguey has to save himself!) he saw a movement about a half mile away inside the fenceline of a alfalfa field. It was moving slow and had the characteristics of the prey. He looked through his scope and Whoaaaaa Sammmie joe (same kieth Jackson twang) it was a trophy Siamese slinking the fence line toward him, stopping occasionally and sniffing for a nest no doubt. Spank thought oh boy aren’t the boys gonna be jealous of this one. He got out of the truck and gently let the door only rest on its latch. He was parked at a field access so just crouched down and popped behind a fencepost to peer down the fenceline-Sammy had taken interest in something in the grass and wasn’t even looking, perfect broadside shot. Spank had him perfectly in the crosshairs and thought, ooooh, a headshot would certainly be nice, just a little noise to turn him. He was leaning on a sturdy fencepost and used his scarred left hand (Spanky and the Ratchet strap) to snap his fingers. The cat both turned to look and spun away in one movement and Spanky started letting the lead fly. The green alfalfa provided a very nice background contrast for the cream colored feline and the third shot hit him right square in the ass an cart wheeled him forward to the beginning of a nice double sukahara, however another shot was already on its way during the Olympic quality maneuver and as the half assed cat was looking backwards, upside down, in mid air another ballistic tip round powdered him in the brisket-which actually made him spin back the other way-just fucking beautiful. Spank set down the mini against the fencepost, got his partially started beer from the truck and just enjoyed the smell of gun powder mixed with his own burrito farts and listened to the songbirds and pheasants cackle.

BUUUURp.

This is a quote used by a Feral Cat Lover Website that actively supports TNR

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over

and expecting a different result."

Einstein

At least have a clue that feral cats are a problem, but no idea that TNR is a failure or they would choose a different quote- Ask PeTA (below). Duh!!

chaiokitty.com has selected a method that does work. Get a decal and show your support.

The History of Cat Flinging

Like many modern day sports, Cat Flinging did not get a start as a sport or even a pastime. It is noteworthy that Cat Flinging did provide the inspiration for multiple other sports. Anyway, its origins are rooted in ancient Egypt where the cat was found useful as a means of controlling grain eating rodents. The Egyptians realized that as people and rodents both ate grain, if the rodents were controlled, there would be more grain for people. Because the cat was so successful at the task of rodent control they eventually came to be deified. Also, because of their success two things happened. First, the Egyptian population grew and flourished. Second, the cat population grew and flourished. Cats and Egyptians were everywhere. Because cats are arrogant, stubborn, and lazy and answer to no one but themselves (the quintessential cat with an attitude syndrome), they would refuse to move when Egyptians approached. Egyptians bumped into them, tripped over them, had to walk around them. Egyptians came to resent the cat for this.

With resentment building toward the cat, because of it's intransigence, the Egyptians eventually realized that to move a cat, one could kick the cat or grasp the cat by some body part and give the cat a fling. Both methods were used. Cat kicking did not develop into a sport in it's own right but went on, through a convoluted history, to become first soccer, then rugby, and still later football. The essentials of Cat Flinging have remained basically unchanged over the millennia, grab the cat, fling the cat. However, even though the Egyptians established cat flinging as a legitimate activity, it was not yet competitive. It took the Greeks to start the competition. It should be noted that Cat Flinging had nothing to do with the fall of the Egyptian civilization.

As the Greeks came in contact with the Egyptians they also came in contact with the Egyptian cat and Cat Flinging. Greeks being open minded folks, exceedingly fun loving, and game oriented, ie. the Olympics, it is not hard to imagine two Greeks sitting in an open air cafe when a cat wanders by and the following situation ensuing: one picks up a cat and flings it, saying to the other, "Ha, Ha, Frank, see if you can beat that, Ha, Ha." Frank, later, having had such a good time Cat Flinging, tells a friend and passes the challenge on to another, who passes the challenge on. And so on until whole segments of Greek society are enjoying the delights of Cat Flinging. Cat Flinging remained an amusing pastime to the Greeks. It was never elevated to a formal status as being an event in the Olympics probably because the competitors didn't wear clothing. It should be noted that Cat Flinging had nothing to do with the fall of the Greek civilization.

Cat Flinging next appeared in Rome. It was a popular event at the coliseum between teams of gladiators. It was during this time that attempts were made to fling larger cats, ie lions. They found that smaller lions could be hefted with some difficulty but clearly dramatic results. The larger lions resisted most attempts at flinging with even more dramatic results. At that point the Romans realized that the thrill of watching lions fling people was equal to the thrill of watching people fling cats. Hence throwing Christians to the lions got its start. It was also during that time that the idea of the circus was born. The idea was to amuse the populace with displays of wild animals from around the world and to have animal acts. To this end, Cat Juggling was attempted. There is no evidence in recorded history, but it is popularly believed that Cat Juggling evolved as a perversion of Cat Flinging. No one is totally sure. It is known that Cat Juggling had a bloody and less than spectacular rise and died an inglorious death as they didn't know how to declaw cats then. As Roman legions advanced throughout Europe, they took Cat Flinging with them. They also introduced the concept of wagering on the outcome of the fling. It should be noted that Cat Flinging had nothing to do with the fall of the Roman Empire.

After the fall of Rome, cat flinging still enjoyed popularity throughout Europe even during the Dark Ages. Because of the lack of sanitation with resultant increase in rodent population, cats were in abundance. It was during that time when people were bored, money was scarce, and TV and video games hadn't been invented yet that Cat Flinging had its Golden Age. Court jesters, wandering minstrels, and the like were chiefly responsible for encouraging the activity. Cruelty was a not an uncommon happening during that time in history, ie the Inquisition. In that light it is understandable to learn that during the Dark Ages people started to hit cats with sticks, first while in the air during the actual fling and later after the cat had landed. It probably started as a school boy prank. These were the rudimentary beginnings of the games of baseball, tennis, and golf. It is probably no mean coincidence that, at that time, stunning the cat with a blow to the base of the skull became an accepted and much touted prefling technique to help the cat relax during the actual fling and enjoy it more. Sad though it may be, because of the increase demand for cats, rodent numbers rose even higher and Europe had several plagues before someone figured the cause. It should be noted that Cat Flinging had nothing to do with the end of the Dark Ages.

The Middle Ages were a time of experimentation and discovery, ie. Leonardo DeVinci. Protective clothing for Cat Flinging got its start when a knight who was in a hurry after a joust, didn't take the time to change clothing before participating in a Cat Fling. From that point, knights realized injury to themselves was less when participating in their armor. Many variations on the fling were tried. It was found that grasping the cat by the tail provided the best fling results. Cat Rolling was tried in which the cat was flung in a manner that it rolled along the ground for most to all of the time. As the story goes, one day a cat was accidentally rolled into a bunch of bottles which tipped over leading eventually to bowling. Also, flinging cats for height instead of distance was tried. This provided the inspiration eventually for volleyball and basketball. A variation on this, the Cat Splat never caught on. The objective was to get the cat high enough that when it landed it would splat. As the Middle Ages drew to a close, Cat Flinging had become a well recognized sport with several variations that was enjoyed by all segments of both cat and human society throughout Europe. It should be noted that Cat Flinging had nothing to do with the end of the Middle Ages.

With the rise of the British Empire, two extremely important events happened in the annals of Cat Flinging. First, Cat Flinging went international. The British, being wonderful sports and enjoying Cat Flinging immensely, wanted the entire world to know of the pleasures derived from cat flinging. Therefore as new countries were colonized, Cat Flinging was introduced to the native populations. At the height of the British Empire, large segments of the world knew about Cat Flinging. It did not experience all the acceptance throughout the world that one might expect though, as the cat was a menu item in some countries and to toy with its affections before becoming a meal was looked upon by some as being in poor taste. The second thing that happened was a codification of the rules of Cat Flinging. The British realized that if Cat Flinging was to be an international sport, there needed to be uniformity of rules between all competitors. They also did it because they are very anal retentive/obsessive-compulsive, ie. Queen Victoria. Cricket, by the way, is in no way connected with Cat Flinging. If the truth be known, there is no logical explanation for it's existence or its rules, which may explain why it is only played in England. In any case, It should be noted that Cat Flinging was instrumental in bringing about the downfall of the British Empire. Well not actually Cat Flinging per se but, throughout the world, people resented the sport being imposed on them, especially those who viewed cats with gustatorial delight. Rebellion, the natural sequelae, could not be controlled or contained.

In the most recent past, the United States has contributed to Cat Flinging and, as in all things, has carried it to frivolous and gaudy heights with the introduction of brightly colored clothing and jewelry for the participants and fans. Cat Flinging also has the distinction of being the first place where the much touted and hedonistic bashes called tailgate parties were introduced to the sporting world. It should be noted that, to date, it is unknown if Cat Flinging will contribute to the unraveling of American culture.

Cat Flinging, as can be seen, has a long and colorful past. It has been enjoyed by countless millions over the centuries. As it is such a pleasant way to pass a few hours on any particular day, whether in practice or in actual competition, it can probably be expected to be around for centuries more. It must be said that although Cat Flinging no longer has the tremendous followings that it once had, the sport as it exists today has been honed and refined through the centuries to the point that aficionados almost consider it an art form. Who knows what its future will hold.

Thanks Quigley!

Rules For Cat Flinging

1. Only live cats may be used for flinging. These cats may be stunned, however...preferably by hammer blow to the base of the skull.
2. Dead and/or stuffed cats may not be used other than as distance markers. They may be spectators, however.
3. Each cat must be flung three countable times and the average distance of the three flings will be computed.
4. A cat must be flung a minimum of six feet on each fling for the fling to be counted. A fling may be done over if cat does not attain the minimum required distance.
5. Distance will be measured from the tip of the contestant's nose to the tip of the cat's nose after it stops bouncing and rolling. A cat may still flop around after the fling, as long as this does not increase the total distance.
6. A cat must not wander off before distance can be measured, in order for the fling to be counted. A fling, in which a cat wanders off before measurement can take place, may be done over.
7. A cat that expires before the end of all three flings is disqualified, but may be replaced. A replacement cat will have to complete all three required flings.
8. A cat must be picked up, held, and flung by the tail only.
9. A cat must land on some body part other than it's feet, preferably it's head, for a fling to be counted. If it lands on it's feet, the fling may be done over.
10. A de-clawed cat may be used.
11. The cat/contestant combination will be by scored for style, grace, and technique in handling and flinging. This will be used in case of a tie.
12. Only cats who volunteer for the contest may be used. A cat is determined to volunteer if it does not run when approached with the intent to use it for Cat Flinging.

Thanks quigley!

Appropriate Attire For a
Cat Flinging Contest

FOR THE CAT:
As dull fur is not necessarily visually esthetically pleasing, cats are encouraged to don their best clothing. Sartorial splendor should be the order of the day. Rhinestone collars and brightly colored outfits make stunning impressions and can brighten even the cloudiest day. The appeal is even more eye catching on a day when the sun glints off Jewelry and costume as cats fly spinning, twisting, and twirling through the air and land bouncing, rolling, and flopping on the ground. One might want to consider clothing made of a washable and durable fabric if one wishes to use costumes on more than one occasion as blood, dirt, and grass can be very staining. Stains could ruin the whole visual effect.

FOR THE FANS:
No hard and fast rules exist for appropriate fan attire, but fans should keep in mind that cat flinging is a gala event, and dress accordingly. This will truly separate the dyed-in-the-fur fan from the mere spectator.

FOR THE FLINGER:
While the fan and cat are having a good time and can show it by festive dress, the cat flinger, having great fun also, might want to be more practical. He or she might want to consider, along with resplendent garb, a pair of thick leather gloves, a thick woolen or flannel loose fitting long sleeve shirt, coat, or jacket, a thick pair of bib overalls, and possibly some type of face shield or, at least, some type of eye protection. Remember that even though declawed cats may be used, they can still be rambunctious and bite if not handled well or stunned sufficiently.

Thanks again quigley!

Cat Flinging Proverbs

• The only good cat is a flung cat.

• A stunned cat in the hand is easier to fling than two un-stunned ones in the bush.

• A flung and rolling cat gathers more distance.
• People who live in glass houses should go outside and fling their cats away from the house.
• While the cat is away being flung, the mice will play.
• Don't change cats in the middle of a fling, unless the first one wanders away or expires.
• The grass always looks greener in the areas where cats are not flung.

• A cat flung in time may lose all nine.

• Don't count your flung cat's distance before it stops rolling.

Of course, from quigley. Thanks.

Spank and the Barn O’ Plenty

#4 of many about the adventures of Spanky

Spanko, our hero, is just minding his own business driving around the country side enjoying the day.  It is the first weekend after pheasant season has closed and S-man is saddened and needs to empty some shells.  You must know he doesn’t just wander around the countryside hoping that he gets charged by a feral tomcat ya know, it’s almost as though they find him…So today he’s frumping around the section, smelling up the cab of his 67 Chevy, with his new .410 Benelli and a whole box of copper plated #5 shot.  He has a plan, the copper plated shot works well for getting through feathers with less resistance and creating some serious, clean damage to a bird, but Spankmeister believes they will work well penetrating feline fur.  He read an article on the chaiokitty.com website that there are about the 100 million feral cats roaming around and the numbers of offspring feral can create.  He has decided to cut down a couple branches on their family tree.  It is perfect cat hunting weather, sunny, and about 45 degrees, no wind.  They like to prowl the ditches, fence lines, in these conditions.  Rule of thumb, good duck hunting weather is bad cat hunting, so....

He has been around this section before and cleaned it out pretty good so he decides to check out some new territory….gotta stop at Casey’s for some mid morning gas inducing food…..hmmmm-our hero decides on the super giant been and beef burrito, wait, no maybe two, could be a long day.  He also picks up a 12 of his favorite barley pop to rinse down the fiesta food.  As he is leaving the store, beer box and burritos in his possession, he notices a farmer (dressed in his osh kosh bgosh pinstripe overalls) looking at his truck.  Of course a nicely kept 67 Chevy gets some looks from those who know and appreciate the era so he didn’t give it a second thought.  As he got closer, he then know the true reason for the farmers interest, he was looking at his chaiokitty decal on the back window of his classic. 

Spanko opens his passenger door and sets his stuff and moseys over to the farmer and says “hey, how’s it going.  Good you?    Farmer says looks like you’ve got the right lunch plan. Spanks says “Yeah well can’t maintain this awesome body eatin salad”! 

The farmer chuckles and says," hey you must be one of those chowkitty guys who is getting rid of those fucking wild cats aren’t ya." 

Spanky couldn’t hold back his less than average John Wayne impression and says “well yes sir, I certainly am”. 

The farmer says, "too bad the duke passed but glad you guys do what you do-I got an old farmsite that I own that has a barn full of those bastards-could you get rid of em for me? "

Spanky nearly teared up and said "of course I will, just give me directions". 

Bob (the farmer) said "don’t worry about that 200 yd rule, you can shoot at the barn, in the barn, and through the barn if you have to". 

So they chatted as many Midwestern people do in gas station parking lots, weather, vehicles, bad roads, gas prices, hunting, food, realatives, local sports.  Farmer says thanks as he heads for the Caseys story and Spanky yells no problem as he starts backing out, Spank then yells-hey Bob, how many do you think are there.  Christ he says, at least 20, and one is a big ass Tom , must weigh 30 fucking pounds….this info gave Spanks foot just a little twitch on the gas and barked the tires on his Chevy…Bob just grinned and Spanky’s eyes were beginning to glaze over and his chest feel tight.  Spank followed Bobs directions and made his way to the Barn of plenty/twenty.  He wanted to fishtail all the way there but he held his driving composure, similar to having what you know is going to be a painful cramp, commode splattering, beer and burrito, shit coming on, but you just just cruise to the bathroom, as if you are going there to wash your hands just caus you are a clean kinda guy….but really you know there are at least 7 stalls at this particular Menards store, so , no need to rush, squeezing your but cheeks and walking like a moron, and let everyone know you are close to crapping yourself.

The barn of plenty/twenty (like horn of plenty…funny huh?) is ahead and spank sees some of the targets out front skulking around-this is gonna be fun!!  It is a well groomed site with a thick shelter belt on the north and west about 30 yds wide -the barn is showing its age but a beaut for it’s day.  HMMM  oh what to do oh what to do.  Guess we need to open a beer, eat a burrito and think about it…..it was all he could do to not to just charge the hold out, as he had been charged by them in the past.  More fun to analyze escape routes, and make a plan.  First, load the gun, second, fill his trapshooting shell holder on his belt with 1 inch rocks from the gravel road….check the wind…..perfect out of the southeast they are gonna break to the shelter belt so that’s the corner of the barn to set up.  He finds a nice spot with good shooting lanes and starts pitching the rocks against the wall----they start coming out all colors, all sizes, and the Benelli starts to bark and the #5 shot starts to fly….shoulder shots, hip shots in the middle of reloading, one handed (just like the Duke in True Grit-with imitating the one handed model 94 lever action) running shots, jumping, doubles, calico, black and white, stopping them with a weak ass MEEEow-Benelli Bark.   Then…Spank was in horror to find his ammo was OUT….whoda thunk he would run into such a swarm?  He decided he would return with some of his chowbuds, the next day to finish off the colony-he had not seen the Big Tom…..To be continued.

*PeTA stance on TNR

 Surprisingly, Ingrid Newkirk, national director for People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PeTA), does not support TNR programs despite the fact that she has been reported saying she would like to see animals living free and separate from humans, "admired from afar." In the case of free-roaming cats, however, she asserts that TNR programs w