I had a good laugh today, reading about a Wyoming woman who called police about a troublesome cat. The officer who responded got a big surprise. The so-called "house cat" was an 80 to 90-pound cougar. Needless to say, animal control was called. They tranquilized the cougar and took it elsewhere. The woman said that the cougar, laying on her front porch, hissed at her, but that was about it.

I'd have also called animal control if I had spotted a wild cat on my property.

On the other hand, it's not a funny situation. As more trees are chopped and more land is cleared, the animals who once inhabited that land are forced to seek better conditions and shelter elsewhere. I can't even tell you how many dead squirrels, wild rabbits, and chipmunks I've seen dead on the road. Seeing that makes me sad. In a few years, there will be no wildlife to worry about, since much of it will have been killed off or "relocated."

Poor cougar!

Where I live, cats are supposed to be licensed. The thinking is that if a cat gets loose, it will be caught, identified and returned to its owner. In an ideal world, that would happen, benefiting cats and owners. But it's only a theory. Usually, a cat that strays for any reason manages to walk or run across the street and get hit by a car. And it doesn't matter if that cat was licensed or not. The animal control is called and arrives to pick up whatever is left of the body by the time all of the traffic has rolled on it.

On the other hand, what's NOT theory is that the local government needs money and lots of it. So it tries to get revenue by raising property taxes (my taxes are over 5 thousand and climbing), and imposing all kinds of nuisance fees such as licenses for cats.

Quite a few years ago, the town thought it was going to impose interest on a fee they wanted to charge me for Leo, one of cats I owned at the time. They assumed that I still had Leo, since I already paid a license fee for him when I reclaimed him from another shelter. Leo had run away, went out on the street and nearly got clipped by a car, but was rescued by the local police and brought to the shelter. I also paid for the cat's upkeep for those two weeks.

Now I did still have Leo, but told the town that I had given him away. The town clerk asked me for the name of the town, and I told her that I had given the cat to relatives in another state. She didn't say anything after that and the town let me alone.

I had and still have to live on a rather slim budget in order to make ends meet and have no money for frivolous items like licenses for cats. Let the town politicians reduce their own salaries for a change and choke on the licenses, another flimsy excuse to extract money for handing out no-show jobs in town. I support four cats now that I NEVER allow outside, so the purpose of the license for cats is .....????

When I lived at home with my parents, we always fed the strays and even adopted their kittens. All told, we must have been supporting about 20 cats, give or take.

There were a few cats that we considered villains, as those cats always picked fights with the cats we took in, ate their food and even tried to kill their kittens. One of those villains was a big white male cat with black markings that was subsequently named "Uncle."

Whenever Uncle dared to come around and pick on our cats, my dad used to throw stuff at him --- not to hurt the cat as much as to scare him away. So when my dad threw a stone, for example, he didn't aim it directly at the cat, but a foot or two ahead of the cat's general "fleeing" direction.

But somehow, Uncle always came back to steal food and pick fights with our cats. He was very shy as well and ran off the minute my mom opened the kitchen window.

I don't know how old Uncle was. The only thing I know is that he was a survivor. Once I moved away after my mom passed, I never went back home. My dad stayed there for a few years before finally moving away himself; the neighborhood was getting too dangerous. I never saw Uncle or the other stray that my mom nicknamed Pac Man. Both of those cats are probably long dead after all of these years, but they will never be forgotten. Especially Uncle.

I was really teed-off early this morning when I discovered Maxie's smelly present in its usual place in the sunporch. I had gone through a lot of trouble to clean that area thoroughly with Chlorox and water and got rid of the nasty odor. One whiff of Chlorox should repel the most stubborn, ill-behaved cats.

To make matters worse this morning, I had no more Chlorox left. So I cleaned up the mess and discarded it in the garbage bag outside, then went back in to tackle an old problem with a new twist.

Let's see.

Citrus-flavored hairspray did not work.
Chlorox does not work.
House-cleaner does not work.

Grrrrr. My first instinct was to open the door and let Maxie run free with the other two stray cats outside. Permanently. Then I would free myself of this ongoing, smelly problem. Maxie was this close to being kicked out.

So I finally got some liquid laundry cleaner and spilled it in the area that had been soiled by Maxie. The next time the rascal dared soil again in that place, he'd wind up stepping in slippery liquid cleaner briefly. Hopefully, that will teach him a lesson. I can't always be home to watch what he does. He still doesn't believe in pooing in the litterbox.

Recently, Maxie, the youngest and most playful of my four cats, has wandered in my bedroom, jumping on the dresser and upsetting items on it. Even more surprising, Maxie has taken to jumping and eventually sleeping on the bed. And is seemingly tolerated by my Waffles and Columbus.

Even though Maxie behaves himself, I'm not quite sure if I fully trust him yet. Lately, I've noticed some pee in close proximity to the dresser and bed.

So to that effect, I've decided to shoo Maxie away when he wanders in the bedroom and lessen the chances of his doing anything in there besides sitting around with the other cats and/or sleeping. Maybe I'm just confusing him, but I look at it this way: it's my bedroom and I have every right to make sure that every part of it stays clean and pee free.