Thread: Feral Cats

As a young'n living in a block of flats with my GF (hmmm, must be 42 years ago now!) there was a series of pensioners flats next door. All had lovely little flower gardens that the old girls (all girls, guys ddn't seem to last that long). At the end of the two sets of flats, was an old half acre section accessed from Main street (Talking Palmy nth, 1970's here). The old dears were beside themselves, as their lovely gardens were being rooted up and shat in every day by the weird old cat lady that lived in the Main street house. Without a word of a lie, she must have housed at least a hundred cats. Only the nice ones were allowed in the house, so about 70 ferals hung out in the local area, waiting for evening feeding time. They lived in and under all the tonnes of shite stacked up in her back yard.
I was a fitter and turner apprentice back then, and had turned up a good (read big) suppressor for my 10/22. Firing subs with my thumb behind the bolt handle to stop the cycling noise it was very very quiet.

At the end of our block of flats was a monster old Oak tree. I set up a bowl of cat food at its base (using the tree as a backstop) and retreated into the storage room we all had at the end of the block of flats. Luckily I had bought spare ammo, as they just did not stop coming. The odd one I winged was immediately set upon by the others, ripping into it. Till I leveled the playing field. That one afternoon, with the AF MArtin foundary down the road keeping a good level of background noise up!, I filled three PNCC paper rubbish bags full of cats. About 35 odd cats, give or take.

A couple of days later I was picking up the paper from the communual letter boxes and one of the old dears sidled up to me and said " we all know what you did the other day, and we all want to thank you very much!"