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So I have been in a blue funk the last couple days because of an incident with my neighbor. Some background is necessary here and I may meander a bit, but you are used to that, aren't you faithful reader?

Three years now I have had to deal with the fact that my new (not so new now) and terminally ignorant neighbors insist, like most ignorant people, on allowing their cat outdoors. When they first moved here, I had a friendly discussion with the owner of said cat about the cruelty of having a pet that you allow, because it meows and demands it, to stalk the neighborhood. Cats are not like dogs, they do not poop in the yard, but instead find the softest and most wonderful of dirt to scratch and then deposit their most rank of smelly offerings. This is generally the most well tended garden in the neighborhood, because good gardeners love good dirt. There is also the cruelty that the cat will inevitably capture and eat birds, get ticks and fleas, and thereby get diseases that could cause a long and painful illness to the cat, not to mention pass some of these on to their owners, and if the owner happens to be pregnant, some of those diseases are passed on to fetus and cause irrepairable damage. (see Toxoplasmosis , Ringworm, Bartonellosis) There is the fact that most cats who prowl get into fights and are injured, sometimes severely, They are chased by dogs and people, and eventually even the kindest of cats that was let out by an idiot owner because of a persistent meow is now the owner of a fearful, flea and disease infested PEST of the neighborhood.)

In the end it is about responsibility. When you own a pet you take on a responsibility not only to the animal, but to your neighbors, to control that pet.

For three years I have asked the neighbors in the most polite way I can, to control their animal. I have made it clear that their animal is not welcome in my yard and I do not appreciate them putting ME at a health risk because they insist on letting the cat out into the neighborhood because they are annoyed by the cat's meowing. If you do not wish to tolerate meowing, I would suggest you would not make a good cat owner.

Let me also explain that these neighbors are young, and are part of that whole crowd I try to avoid: The drunk and disorderly, wife beating, drug selling type. My neighbor has had to replace his front door 3 times from it being kicked in. His mailbox is permanently dented. His car loses an inordinate amount of back windows. I have cleaned up the contents of a purse in my yard, which was dropped there during a chasing, running, girlfriend beating late night fight. This same girlfriend showed up at my door one night stinking of alcohol, with bruised and reddened face and arms, having just come from a severe beating by "Tommy" the owner of the house, in fear of her life and looking for a way out. She was almost too drunk to speak, let alone think clearly, and I allowed her to use of my phone (all the while fearing "Tommy"" would come over and destroy MY front door, or worse.)

She was gone for a while, this girlfriend, (her name is Heather) but recently she returned, and I am the friendly type, I prefer my life drama-free, and she looked like she had straightened her life out some, she was not drunk every day, and she had gained weight, so perhaps she was off the crack, I do not know. Tommy had got a male roommate, and was tending his yard more, so perhaps he, too, had gotten off the drugs.
Hope springs eternal.

So the other night they came over (Tommy and Heather) and wanted to see my hard wood floors, apparently they are in the process of repairing theirs, only theirs are not in the same shape mine are, (which I told them before they removed the carpet they were not, as I saw them when a previous neighbor lived there and had the carpet replaced.) In any case they came in, and then Heather wanted Tommy to see the garden, which he had never seen. Men do not, as a general rule enjoy gardens, especially not the "oh so manly macho girlfriend beating" kind of men, and most especially a garden that is almost devoid of nice mowable grass, and lots of overgrown places meant to secure and hide birds being stalked by a wayward neighborhood cat. At some point in the walk in the garden (after listening to 15 minutes of ignorance of the earth and the way things grow being chattered by the chatterbox that is Heather) Heather laughed and said: "I hope my cat is not bothering you much anymore..." And I said, bluntly: "I hate your cat." and I laughingly added: "Someday I will get a .22 and shoot that cat." At which point Tommy's fire temper shot off and he stomped out of the yard. I said to Heather: "Did he get mad about that?" And she said "Yes." and then proceeded to run after him. I followed.

I found him on his own porch, having a screaming fit, and he began to scream at me, telling me that my dog poops in his yard, and if he saw it again he would sic his pit bull on it. I said: Feel Free to do that, Tommy. (knowing full well my dog runs to the front door of the house when chased) Also knowing that chihuahua turds are about the size of a bullfrog poop and harden in hours in the sun, so they are actually almost undetectable. I know. My dog poops most often in MY yard, and the size of the dog is proportionate to the size of the poop. One thing I consider when deciding on a pet.

So, after this Tommy's conniption fit continued, I went inside but could hear him, and to be honest, having been witness to his propensity for beating up girlfriends and wives that he supposedly had affection for, I would not put it past his type to hit an old woman who just happened to be his neighbor. At some point his anger was released upon the compost heap I created between our two houses, (The dirt there is greatly compacted and composed mostly of clay) and to the manly macho wife beating earth ignorant neighbor, I explained to him and showed him the damage being caused to the foundation of both of our houses (slab foundations) from too much water run off, and that the soil here needed some additives to allow the water to soak in and not run off the packed clay. In any case, now the neat row of compost between the house was an irritant to his enraged mind, and he proceeded to toss it onto my sidewalk and my house and then, that was not enough for his blind rage, he decided my snowball bush was a good general offender of all that is cat shit loving, and screamed at the top of his lungs: "And here is what you can do with your FUCKING FLOWERS!" as he dumped an especially large and heavy heap of the compost on top of the cat-shit stunted shrub. (I have nursed the shrub, the 3rd I have had to purchase, for some time. It should be six feet tall by now, but alas, the cat kills a part of it off every year, so it is a scant 2 feet.) "Where a cat goes, nothing grows."

Hearing all this commotion from the safety of my house, and knowing that at this point private property was being destroyed and not knowing how far this maniac would take it, I decided, as most law abiding citizens would, to call those who "protect and serve"-- The Oklahoma City Police. I waited for them to arrive, and the Tommy-bomb noise subsided, so I went out my back door to survey the damage, and begin the clean up (and calm my frazzled nerves) before it got dark.

I have not had many interactions with the police as an adult, (my wayward youth is another story) so I was ill-prepared for the kind of ego-driven antagonistic attitude that seems to be prevalent in the Oklahoma City Police Force. Apparently, like most public servants nowadays, they have forgotten the word "servant". The first officer who arrived was immediately condescending and rude in his manner, treating me as if I was a criminal for merely calling the police, and then speaking to me all of five minutes on my driveway, as Tommy screamed at us from his porch. Apparently it is common police procedure, that the wheel that squeaks gets the most grease, and is, apparently in the right, as he left me there in the drive and walked over to talk to the now screaming Tommy, joined by a chattering Heather, as I continued to try to clean up the mess to my property. Two other officers arrived, one a female, and both went over and proceeded to speak only to the ballistic neighbors as I ignored the conversation (I am not one to eavesdrop, besides, I felt I was in the right--- Not So! I would learn later.) One police officer returned to me, and I was actually beginning to feel chest pains from the anxiety and said as much, and he admonished me to stop raking and sweeping. I could not, as the light was dimming, and I would not have the mess left until morning and besides it was the work that was calming my nerves. (although he did not know this, nor did he care.) He said: "You know it is against the law to kill a cat." I said "Yes, I am aware that in Oklahoma City you are not allowed to kill cats who stray on your yard. It is a stupid law. Tell me, am I allowed to trap them and call Animal Control to come get them?" "No, you cannot trap them." he replied. "But if if were a raccoon or a coyote, then I could trap it, correct?" "Yes, if it were a raccoon or coyote, you could trap it." "I see. So what if I do not know it is a cat, but suspect a raccoon, and got the cat, what then." He was obviously tired of my line of reasoning, because it is, of course REASONABLE and so he turned to the more interesting conversation of Tommy-Bomb and Heather-Chatter taking place on the porch next door.

Then apparently some great and wonderful FACTS OF THE CASE had come out of the ranting neighbors and the female officer came over to question me. (I had returned to my sweeping at this point.) Her first question for me, had nothing whatsover to do with what had occurred in my yard, but had everything to do with (for any thinking person that is, but I had already come to the conclusion that this episode in the continuing adventure that is: MY LIFE was going to be one of "authoritarian control over the mindless masses" of which I have had plenty, and is one of the causes of my taking up the banner of personal liberty and libertarianism, but I digress) It had everything to do with someone who listens to the chatterings of chatterboxes who chatter when they are trapped like rats, the great manipulation by distortion lies and innuendo that people with STRAC uniforms and Shiny FBI Shoes are so very keen on. Miss Shiny FBI Shoes Cop asked me (as her first question of great relevance) "What medications are you on?" I looked up from my sweeping a bit stunned, to be honest, and a bit breathless, again from great anxiety (and fear for my life, but apparently that is of no great importance to the "Protect and Serve crowd, given there was a Stray Cat's life in danger, by the likes of me, the garden-lady with a broom.) "Pardon me?" I said quietly (quiet because I found suddenly that breathing and speaking loudly could not currently be accomplished) "I KNOW you can speak louder than THAT!" The Shiny FBI Shoes cop said now with a condescending tone and threatening manner. (I wondered for a moment if her threatening tone was practiced in compensation for her gender in a mostly male profession) "What MEDICATIONS are you on??!" She said and stepped towards me and raised herself to her full height in some asinine attempt, I suppose to tower over me so I did not question her AUTHORITY to suddenly ask about my medications. "I am on high blood pressure medications." I said again, breathlessly, and realized at that moment that if I fell to the ground in a heart attack, these three uniformed and oh-so-powerful folks who now had in their reach the apprehension of the DREADED CAT THREATENER OF OKLAHOMA CITY would probably let me lay there as they scribbled rapidly in their notebooks with their 9 dollar tax payer paid for pens."What OTHER medications are you on???" She almost screeched, as I continued to sweep up the mess made by my neighbor (which they were handily ignoring, afterall it is just dirt and leaves, nothing to see here, move along folks) I looked at her again, and paused with puzzlement. "I am on high blood pressure medication." And at that moment....that HISTORICAL and WORLD SHATTERING moment, a small sweep of the broom spread some of that harmless leaf and dirt clutter on Miss Shiny FBI shoe's ....shoes, and that was when she lost it. She looked down at the offending dust on her shoes (nevermind that I had been raking and sweeping it away from my house for the better part of an hour while they got all the information they needed from the neighbor with the cat who is threatened.) But now it was IMPORTANT. The dust on her shoes. I have never seen so much hatred spill from a woman's eyes (and trust me, as a 53 year old woman I have had much female hate signifyin' thrown in my general direction) in my life. "YOU are pushing it, lady!" She spat at me. And I realized that this woman, in fact these three cops who I had called for my protection were prepared to arrest me for dust on shiny shoes, that whatever had transpired with my drug dealer neighbors, I was now the enemy, and I said calmly: " I no longer have any complaint, and revoke your right to be on my property, until you find just cause and a warrant to be here, then I would like you to leave." And I turned my libertarian butt around and entered my house.

Later I tried to talk to a supervisor, but was told on the phone that it was my own fault for "threatening to discharge a firearm". No supervisor ever spoke to me. I called three times. My plan is to go and get the police report, find out the names of these three officers and report them. Not that I believe it will do any good. File 13 is a very large file.

The moral of all of this is that you can shoot your neighbor, but you cannot even threaten to shoot your neighbor's cat. If my neighbor even sets foot on my property I will tell them only once that I feel threatened by them on my property and then they will feel the sting of a full blast of shot from a shotgun that is my only defense since the Oklahoma City Police cannot even protect me from the cat who has more rights than I do.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 17th, 2010 12:52 am (UTC)
Morans, Miscreants and the Moral of the Story
OMG Nalora, now I am worried for your safety. Those neighbors sound like the kind that one night might get too drunk or high and just decide to get revenge in some form or fashion. And the police!!!!! OMG, that is awful. Who in the world can you count on if you can't count on the Law????

Stay clear of those neighbors. They sound like really bad news. Take care of yourself.
Apr. 17th, 2010 04:00 am (UTC)
Re: Morans, Miscreants and the Moral of the Story
The thing that bothered me the most is that it completely shattered any illusion I had that the police would protect me from these people next door. Next weekend John is taking me to learn to load and shoot the new high tech shot gun, and he is taking the older one that is here at the house home with him. I guess it is just the second amendment and me.
Apr. 17th, 2010 05:05 am (UTC)
Re: Morans, Miscreants and the Moral of the Story
Darrell's a phone call away. thats all I'm going to say
Apr. 18th, 2010 12:14 am (UTC)
darrell and i's vote. a 12 foot high brick fence to the street.
Apr. 18th, 2010 07:45 am (UTC)
My Two Cents
Sorry Nalora, but you started it by saying you were going to shoot the cat with a .22 - that was a threat. If someone said that to me, I would call the police on them!

I think that your dog should stay in your backyard to use the bathroom because I believe your neighbor will let his dog out to hurt your dog. Pitt Bulls kill other dogs all the time - my sister's dog was killed by a Pitt Bull.

Yes, I TOTALLY agree that cats should be kept inside...for their own protection; however, when you're dealing with ignorant people, you won't win. Please just stay away from him - he obviously has severe anger issues.

As a side note, cats that are spayed/neutered do not fight - they might get beat-up by a tom cat, however, Please don't blame the cat for being a cat - it's the ignorant owner/neighbor to blame. Aside from the cat just acting like a cat, I'm sure that the poor cat is just trying to survive.

Sorry about the cops - sounds like they to go back to charm school :-)

( 5 comments — Leave a comment )

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