It’s legend that two of my predecessors, Coco and Cleo, both declawed, once tag-teamed a mouse at the kitchen sink. Their kill was so meticulous, the mouse looked like it had died in its sleep.
In 14 years I’ve been on the job here, ably assisted by Yul and Adele, I’m proud to say nothing bigger than a bug has ever infiltrated our happy home.
Rodents know instinctively that anywhere with a cat… or three… is no place to settle down and raise a family.
But here’s the rub. Local health codes and state law ban all animals from stores serving human food or beverages. The fines are $300 for a first offense and $2K+ for subsequent offenses.
Which would you rather see, a fastidiously groomed cat sitting on the counter, or rodent footprints and “raisins” on your cheesecake?
Cats make more humane pest controllers than professional exterminators because our methods don’t let our victims have slow, agonizing deaths in inaccessible places where they rot and stink up the joint. We believe nothing says “I love you” more eloquently than the gift of a dead rat at our owners’ feet.
So I hope the bureaucrats in NYC will get real and give the cats a break. They’re hard-working and they need homes. It’s possibly the only front in the war on terror we can win. Thanks to cats, these rat bastards are definitely going down.