This is my blog so I can cry if I want to.
My neighbors, the Carlos's, object to my cats, Tom, Katherine (Kitty) and Little One, because they poop on their lawn and because Tom sprays their front door. They have put it to me that I should keep these cats locked up in my house--which is not feasible because they're old cats, accustomed to prowling and largely self supporting. I keep the door to our fenced yard open for Ducati, our chocolate lab, a.k.a. Britynic Cadbury of Bourneville but the cats can, and do, fly over the six foot fence and, in any case, when I've tried to confine them, retaliate. Cats are free--at least those like ours who aren't seriously domesticated and make their living eating birds.
Mr. Carlos has taken to pitching cat shit against the steps to our side door. Personally I do not believe that all this shit is ours and would be seriously interested in a DNA test. The neighborhood is full of feral cats. Moreover, some of the crap he's dumped at my side steps, in my opinion, isn't cat shit at all. My cats shit all over the kitchen and the the Carlos' turds by comparison are much bigger than any my cats can squeeze out. In short, I believe this is dog shit rather than cat shit. Some is petrified and covered with dirt: it is pretty clear to me that Carlos has been digging in his garden to find shit to deliver to my doorstep.
My family, characteristically, thinks it's all my fault. Sorry, I don't buy it. So, if anybody is reading this--is this my fault, dammit?