Cat, bag and deep water body

It’s a new garden, the lawn is in reasonable nick and there are no flowers or plants yet because we’ve just moved in.  It’s no golf course fairway but it’ll do.  My back is turned, I go to make a cup of tea or something, come back and some cat or other has deposited a particularly filthy shit slap bang in the middle of my grass.  Fucking thing.  The sparse green broken by the mucky brown of a cat’s ablution.  I despair I really do.  This is going to be the start of something I can feel it, I can smell it.

It’s now been over a year, this house is great.  There are now borders dug, plants planted and the lawn is as average as ever.  The cat is still smothering it’s faeces around my greenery like a small, hairy tramp with a particularly fithy bowel condition.  The little spiteful fuck.

There are hundreds of ways to stop the feline wanker doing this apparently.  Everyone has a solution – “Lemon peel all over the grass, that works!  Cat’s don’t like lemons!” is one I’ve heard, “Orange peel all over your lawn, that works.  Cat’s don’t like orange peel!” is another.  “Fill an empty cola bottle full of water and put it on the lawn, it reflects the sun (or something), the cat’s don’t like that!”  Another suggestion I’d heard on at least 3 seperate occasions.  “Buy some lion shit and hang it in your garden”.  Okay.  “Get a dog!”  That one I like, but isn’t really faesible.  My favourite was “get yourself a cat! cat’s don’t like other cat’s!”.  Fuck off.  Other cat’s don’t like other cat’s, I don’t like cat’s.  This person clearly does not get the irony of buying a cat to stop a cat appearing in your garden.  Let’s double up the local cat population shall we?  That should decrease the shit quota.

The only solution I can think of for ridding the community of this smug, four legged, cunt is to set up a small mammal trap, bait it with something that cat’s like (mice? tweety pie? cake?)  When the arsewipe has been caught, grab it by it’s neck and extract it from said trap, place it in a bin bag full of particularly weighty aggregate, drive to the banks of the Irwell and hoy the obnoxious crap factory from the car window whilst laughing maniacally screaming “I WIN YOU MUTHA-FUCKA!” at the splash in the steadily flowing river.

At the moment, there are 2 deposits on my lawn.  They are of the same shade of brown as they always are.  There is one cat that does this, it knows I don’t like it and it is a cat-bastard.  May the lord strike it and it’s kind from the face of the earth to sanitise humanity from the most wretched of all the animal kingdoms species, the house cat.  Felis catus, I damn you to hell!

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