Who's Killing My Cats?

Two of our cats are missing. Well, five, if you count Starbucks, but he's been gone for six months now, and his two younger siblings, Rambo and Tigger, who have been gone about four. And I swear, I had nothing to do with it. Starbucks managed to live almost a year; Rambo and Tigger were only 8 weeks old. There is evidence (coyote scat) that more coyotes are lurking around. So I guess the cats have gone to the great coyote digestive system in the sky. (An aside: don't you think it's funny that the word used to chase a cat away, 'scat,' is the same as the word that means 'poop?')

Two weeks ago Lightning disappeared. (Rambo and Tigger were his litter mates and he was the only one left.) I really liked that cat. He went missing one day before his six month birthday. The-Person-Who-Serves-Me was going to get him neutered for his birthday, which a few of us thought might have something to do with his disappearance. Anyhow, he was sweet and sleek and had a perfect black tuxedo with a bolero jacket.

The most recently missing cat was Lightning's mother, Charlie. I didn't like that cat much. Some days she was nice to me, other days I'd be just minding my own business and she'd hiss and spit at me. What is it with cats? If a dog doesn't like someone, they stay pretty consistent with the growling. Not cats. You never know where you stand with them.

The main problem with Charlie being awol is that she leaves behind three 8-week old kittens. She was one fertile cat and had litters faster than you can say 'spay and neuter program.' The kittens are a diverse lot: there is one black who looks a lot like Lightning, called 'Clone', one pure white one, a female, called 'Honky Cat', and a cool looking grey and white male with a white 'V' on his face, a very nasty little bastard (ironically the largest of the bunch) called 'Putz.' And of course, now that there mother is missing, I am their surrogate. This sucks, big time.