Here's the story of how I became a "Lifer". I can never, ever, go outside again. I think it's a pretty harsh sentence. But maybe Mama isn't serious and I'll just have pay my Lenten penance and in less than 40 days, I'll be free again. (Scout is giving up football and Simone is giving up baths, so I'm giving up going outside, maybe).
According to the lying, conniving neighbors, I am a violent criminal who needs to be taken off the streets.
You all know I am not a violent criminal. I didn't even get a fair trial. That proves my earlier point about the election. No equal rights for cats.
My alleged crimes: 3 counts of breaking and entering, 2 counts of terrorism and attempted assault, 4 counts of vandalism
I am accused of entering the neighbors' house via the old doggie door and beating up the two indoor cats. When they closed the doggie door. I ripped up 2 screen doors and 2 window screens trying to get back in the house and scare the cats. This occurred over a period of months until they finally caught me and called Mama. She came and got me and marched me straight home. Then went back to talk to the neighbors. She says I am very lucky that she didn't have to pay for the damages. Otherwise... Well, I don't know what "otherwise." She would have taken me to the pound?! Yeah right. She loves me so much she can't stand it.
Obviously, I didn't do it. I didn't want to scare the cats. I wanted to play with them. And even if I did do it, they had it coming. Maybe the coyote ripped up the screens or a possum or a raccoon. Just because the screens looked like exact replicas of my box, doesn't mean I did it. Just because there was white fur in the house, doesn't mean it was mine. I demand DNA testing! Where are the CCSIs?
Now I have to stay inside for life. The neighbors want to replace their screens and Mama can't vouch for my actions. So she's keeping me inside. I have been so depressed. I have days where I don't even get up for breakfast in the morning and mope around all day. My life is over!!
Mama says that Aunt Nancy's vet knows of medicines to help me. I am not always aggressive. I'm not mean. I never hiss at anybody or use my claws in a fight. I'm just persistent. I get really hyper and can't control myself. Then I get really depressed and can't move or eat. Maybe there is better living through chemistry for me. All I know is, that I understand how Britney feels.