Old sayings, but true:

Never try to out-stubborn a cat.

A cat will suck the breath from a sleeping baby.

Cats are the familiar of the Devil.

Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea.

More Lunatics with Cats

Here's a story from the January 31st Arizona Republic. A guy came in to lay some tile at someone's house and found 74 CATS, covered in feces and ill from respiratory infections, inside the house. The lady who owned them, (and why is it always women who own eight hundred cats?), said she was "breeding" them. The people who discovered them assumed that "breeding" equates to "breeding for sale." They missed the point. The lady wasn't breeding them to sell them. She was just breeding them because she wanted more cats. She was just plain insane, and felt she needed more cats. They'll probably be seized, nursed back to health, then Roberta will go to the shelter and get a bunch of them and turn them loose in my alley.

The lady, whose name wasn't released, has been charged with a misdemeanor. 74 CATS is an electric chair misdemeanor, as far as I'm concerned. I'm sneezing as I'm typing this just thinking about what 74 CATS in one house smells like.

And here's a story from the Reno Gazette Journal, January 21, about a lady who was cited for having 100 CATS in her house. ONE HUNDRED CATS! How can anyone have a hundred cats? And the weird coincidence: her name is "Katz." She rescues cats when people can no longer care for them. The cats were found by city inspectors when a neighbor complained. Again, I ask: what in the WORLD does any one person need with a HUNDRED CATS.

Here's a picture of the Reno cat lady. I count eight cats in this picture. Maybe you can find more and e-mail me. Three people have already pointed out the Reno cat lady's striking resemblance to Roberta. The only difference is that most of Roberta's shirts have pictures of cats on them. With clever sayings like, "The Egyptians worshipped them as gods." The article says there are five cats in Ms. Katz's kitchen, sitting on the stove. Restaurants get shut down for stuff like having five flies in an establishment. Or someone drinking from a non-covered beverage container in a food prep area. What would a health department inspector do if he found five cats in a food preparation area, sitting on the stove? My guess is that he'd have an aneurysm. People like these are why I don't like participating in potlucks at work. Unless I've been to someone's house and verified for myself that they don't have five cats sitting on the stove, licking themselves near the base of the tail and coughing up furballs, I'm hesitant to eat other people's cooking. This repulses me even more that people who smoke cigarettes while they're cooking. "Oh, Renee, this aspic with broccoli and cat hair is just delicious!" Not to mention salad dressing and spaghetti with cigarette ash. Hi, Candy! Just a few of my personal idiosyncrasies.

Reno Cat Lady Update

The city has ordered her to get rid of all but ten of the cats. She's refused. Talks have broken down. The director of Animal Services says, "her right to own cats doesn’t outweigh her neighbors’ rights." Rock on! Here's the article.

From: Sarasota, Florida, here's a picture of my greatest fear. Will this employee bring a cake knife from this drainer to cut the cake she brings to the potluck. And did she use milk in the cake? Maybe milk from the cat on the left that appears to be nursing kittens? And what if she brings taquitos? Is that really shredded beef, or did she take a recipe from Brian's cookbook?

: The caption reads: Kittens crawl over the filthy countertop of a feces-littered kitchen in a Sarasota home Monday. About 30 kittens were removed Monday from the home of a couple who had more than 100 cats living, breeding and running wild in their house.

Think of this photo the next time you have a potluck at work.

Thanks to Gary for e-mailing me the story about the Reno Cat Lady. He also e-mailed me the Reno City Code under which she was issued a notice of violation.

Sec. 8.28.320. Permit for keeping large numbers of dogs and cats.

(a) A person shall not keep more than three canine animals over four months of age, nor more than three cats over three months of age, at any place, or on any premises, or in any one residence, located within and under the jurisdiction of the city, within 200 feet of any other dwelling house, used or occupied by human beings other than the owner of such dogs or cats without first obtaining a permit from the city therefor, but such permit in exercise of sound discretion and for good cause shown may be refused.

(b) If granted under this section, such permit may be conditioned as may be deemed necessary or advisable and as prescribed by the county district health officer to prevent the keeping of any and all such animals from becoming a nuisance; provided, however, that a "dog fancier" may keep and maintain on his property up to but not more than six adult dogs over the age of one year, provided the owner first obtains from the city a special permit for each of such adult dogs at an annual fee approved by city council. All dog fanciers meeting the provisions of this subsection and having in their possession for each adult dog a special permit as described herein need not have the property where the dogs are so maintained rezoned.
(Code 1966, § 11.24.070; Ord. No. 3950, § 1, 5-22-90; Ord. No. 5036, § 1, 9-14-99)

Phoenix needs an ordinance like this. And I still haven't heard anything from Councilman Lingner.

Roberta names every one of the cats she feeds. Little Richard, Arabella, Peanut, Whirly, and Penelope are just a few of the names. She has a dog named Short Stuff. I have to wonder if Ms. Katz does the same. My grandmother used to confuse my name with my brother's, and there were only two of us. How can any person in there right mind keep the names of A HUNDRED CATS straight. Oh, wait, I just answered my own question: she's not in her right mind.

I spoke in Week Seven's ramblings about the benefits of a classical education. Here's another snippet of stuff I've been thinking about for quite some time, but haven't gotten around to adding to the page. This is from Hamlet, Act III, scene I, lines 152-9. Hamlet's mad at Ophelia for her duplicity, and is shouting at her about all the evil stuff chicks do. He storms out of the room at the end of this tirade. Every time I hear Roberta talking to the cats, I think of Hamlet's speech.

Hamlet: I have heard of your paintings too, well enough. God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig, you amble, and you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't! it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no mo marriages. Those that are married already--all but one--shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.

Do you suppose that 402 years ago when Shakespeare wrote Hamlet, that there was an old woman down the street from him who owned eighty-six cats? That she had names for each of them: Ophelia, Laertes, Cordelia, Juliet, Gertrude, Hamlet. That she wandered down the street each night, banging on whatever cat food came in back then, calling her cats to dinner? Is this where Will got his creative inspiration? Did Shakespeare say, "Hmmm. Ophelia and Laertes, they sound like a brother and sister. Maybe they could get messed around by Gertrude. No, wait. What if Gertrude had a son? And what if his name was Hamlet? And what if Hamlet was mackin' with Ophelia?" And did he look at his neighbor, calling the cats by name, and say, "yo, what's with the nicknaming of God's creatures?" Maybe she was a dance instructor, too, and jigged a lot.

And just like the nutjobs who only read part of the Second Amendment, then proclaim they have the right to own an AK-47, I'm only going to look at the part of the play about "nicknaming God's creatures," for if I were to agree with Hamlet that there shouldn't be any more marriages, such a sentiment might get me in trouble.

Brian likes the quote at the top of the page: so many cats, so few recipes. He e-mailed me the other day and said that he's going to start working on a cookbook featuring things to do with cats.

Fun with Google!

Go to Google. Type in "100 Cats." Then type in "too many cats." Look what comes up!

Pittston, Maine

Richland, Pennsylvania

Sarasota, Florida

Lee's Summit, Missouri (Okay, it's only 78 cats. Sue me.)

Kansas City, Missouri (Quote from neighbor: "We can't even open one window in our house because then it will stink bad. I mean, bad." Quote from animal control: "They [lunatics with cats] don't want to see a cat starve and don't want to see them out in the rain. They think they're making the difference and unfortunately, they aren't helping the situation -- just making it worse." Sound familiar?)

And finally, here's an interesting article from a site called PetPlace. Here's the relevant text:

So, how many cats are too many? That depends. It depends on genetics, on socialization and on facilities and protocol. For most people, two to three cats are enough. For others 5 to 10 might be manageable. For the occasional feline aficionado with time, the patience of a saint, and money to burn, even larger numbers of cats can be successfully managed.

But don’t fall into the collector trap. These individuals collect great numbers of cats thinking that they are doing the right thing. This isn’t always true, and they are blind to the squalor and suffering they propagate. Collectors may have a form of obsessive-compulsive behavior, but whatever the situation it is important for them to realize their limitations and their predicament. For them the magic number should be zero. 

Collectors, such as Roberta, "have a form of obsessive-compulsive behavior. ... For them the magic number should be zero." And I would propose that if the cats are on my property, she isn't "successfully managing" them.

Of course, those of you who have spent hours reading my ramblings on this website might argue that I'm the one who's obsessed.

February 10 through 14, 2003

I finally got a response from Lingner's office. If you're reading this, call him anyway, though, because they're addressing the odor, not the underlying problem. More on that, shortly.

I called the office Wednesday afternoon. I identified myself to the chick who answered the phone. She immediately knew who I was, and told me my letter had been forwarded to a guy named Greg from Neighborhood Services. I called him and got a voicemail message that said he's been assigned to a special project and to call so-and-so. Called her, and she informed me that "animal issues" were something Greg took with him and was still working on. I called Greg and spoke with him for about ten minutes.

This is exactly where I don't want things to be. I want legislation, the end result being that a person can only own three or five cats. Greg was more focused on the cat pen, and the size and did it have a roof. I told him repeatedly that I don't want Roberta to receive a citation, that I want an ordinance that will allow all of the cats to go away.

He told me that they pick up dogs because of the danger of rabies. I countered with the dangers of toxoplasmosis, which can be fatal in little kids. He didn't really respond to this. He suggested instead ways that I can keep cats out of my garden. Wrong. I cut him off right there and told him that I wasn't just concerned about a garden--a two foot by four foot patch of dirt--I didn't want any cats on the 49.5 feet by 149 feet that constitutes my property. I didn't want to keep them out of a flowerbed--I wanted them off the entire property. He suggested that I put rocks on the top of my fence, that I spray pepper spray, or that I fill jugs with water and set them around the property--that for some reason this will keep cats away. He didn't get it. If the cats are still there, they still crap in the front yard, which doesn't have a wall around it. If you don't make all the cats go away, you still have the stench from the pen and the back of Roberta's yard. He's going to check into the situation and get back to me, supposedly by today, Friday the fourteenth.

I also got an e-mail from Brian, who's well-connected in the Arizona political scene. He got in touch with a friend of his, who got in touch with Councilman Mattox's office. One of the councilman's staffers, Rebecca, called me on Thursday. I described the situation to her. She seemed very interested in the fact that the cat pen has a roof, and told me they will have someone look at the situation. Again, they don't get it. Let's say you cite Roberta today. She cleans the place up, but three months from now, it smells the same as it does today. It becomes this continual cycle of me complaining and her cleaning. Get rid of the cats and the problem goes away, so to speak!

Which brings me to the next topic: Cat collectors or cat hoarders.

I found a long article from Psychiatric Times entitled People Who Collect Animals. The article is pretty long, so I'll excerpt a few passages:

An animal hoarder was defined as "someone who accumulates a large number of animals; fails to provide minimal standards of nutrition, sanitation and veterinary care; and fails to act on the deteriorating condition of the animals (including disease, starvation and even death) or the environment (severely overcrowded and unsanitary conditions), or the negative impact of the collection on their own health and well-being." These findings support some of Worth and Beck's conclusions. Most cases were female (76%), a large proportion (46%) were 60 years of age or older; most were single, divorced or widowed; and almost half lived alone. The most common animals involved were cats (65%) and dogs (60%). Based on the data collected, Patronek estimated that there are 700 to 2,000 new cases of animal hoarding every year in the United States.

While I don't believe that the general condition of the stray cats is as bad as they describe, what about the cats in the pen. What is the purpose of keeping them all in "severely overcrowded and unsanitary conditions?"

Hoarders' justifications for their behavior included an intense love of animals, the feeling that animals were surrogate children, the belief that no one else would or could take care of them, and the fear that the animals would be euthanized.

Bounce back to my original shouting match with Roberta. She just couldn't resist or turn away the strays--a justification based on her love of animals. Some time ago, back before we conducted all our conversations at a shoutational volume, Roberta told me that she'd like to move back to Mesa, but that she wanted to make sure the cats were taken care of. She told me that if she could find someone who would feed them and take care of them, she'd rent her house to that person for $200 per month. She hasn't moved or rented to anyone else--"no one else would or could take care of them." I don't recall if it was the same discussion, but I suggested sending them to the shelter. She ixnayed that, citing the reason that the cats would be killed if no one adopted them. I suggested the no-kill shelter. Ixnay on that, too, as people who train pit-bulls for dog fights and blood sports go to shelters and get cats so the dogs have live incentive. There's a reason for everything, and it boils down to the fact that Roberta is the only one who can take care of these beasts.

The resolution of these cases was often protracted and difficult, and the hoarder frequently resumed the behavior. Sixty percent of the hoarders studied were repeat offenders.

Without laws to constrain this behavior, cats will continue to hang around.

The article goes on to suggest many models for the behavior, but concludes that perhaps the most accurate model is related to a form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder:

Perhaps the most parsimonious model ties animal hoarding to OCD (Lockwood, 1994). Two major features are consistent with the OCD model. People with this syndrome appear to experience an overwhelming sense of responsibility for preventing imagined harm to animals, and they engage in unrealistic steps to fulfill this responsibility. OCD patients experience this same sense of excessive responsibility for preventing harm and engage in unrealistic ritualization to prevent it.

They go on to define hoarding:

Central to this phenomenon is the inability to resist the urge to acquire an object, even though acquiring or possessing the object may create problems (e.g., financial, clutter and so on). People who hoard animals experience similar urges when seeing or hearing about an animal in need of a home.

Again, flash back to my shouting match with Roberta. She told me that she's spent "thousands" of dollars caring for these cats. Yet she still can't seem to keep from feeding and caring for them. Saturday morning is usually marked by pulling three or four bags of cat food and several flats of canned cat food from the back of her van. She spends more money on cat food than I spend on wine each week. The researchers go on to describe an increasing isolation and suspiciousness of others on the part of the hoarder, as they struggle to maintain control of their possessions. 

The researchers conclude by saying there are no definitive models for an animal hoarder, and that further study is necessary. They hedge their bets as to treatment by saying that deeply held beliefs about things like euthanasia might make treatment difficult or impossible. 

Here are a few more articles about cat hoarding:
This one is a reprint from the LA Times.
And this is part of a huge website run by a cat lover.
Set aside an hour or two, as there's a bunch of information here.

Update, February 17th through 21st:

On February 19th, I got a call back from Greg at the City of Phoenix. He was apologetic that he missed calling me back on Monday, as he'd initially told me. He said that the situation was being turned over to neighborhood services, who would work with Roberta on clearing up the problem. He suggested that I involve other neighbors in the complaint. I countered with the fact that the neighbors on our side of the street closest to the cat pen are all older than Roberta, and rely on her for rides to go grocery shopping and so forth. Did Greg really believe that they would bite the hand that feeds them, so to speak, to join with me in ridding the neighborhood of the cats? David Letterman used to refer to Record Executives as "weasels." He's never met the folks from the Phoenix City Council. Greg danced all around why they couldn't really do anything, other than turn it over to neighborhood services.

Leisa and I were at the house on Friday evening. Roberta came over and told us that she had been to the doctor and spent $1000 on her nose. She said that when we "talked" previously, and I told her she couldn't smell how bad the cat pen was, she wasn't aware of the fact that she was having sinus problems. She told me she could smell what I was talking about, and that she hired the girl across the street to come in and clean up the cat pen. She said she won't let it get that bad in the future. I wasn't able to smell anything either yesterday or today, but there was a breeze. The real test is late at night after the winds die down.

She said it's clean, and that she hopes that in the future I'll let her know if it begins to smell. My guess is that neighborhood services contacted her and told her she can't have objectionable odors coming from her property. Now all I have to deal with are all of the cats that are still running around. I've talked to both Lingner's and Mattox's offices, and neither seem to want to introduce legislation limiting how many cats someone can have. If you've seen Shawshank Redemption, Tim Robbins' character works on expanding the prison library by sending a letter every week to the folks at the state capitol. When they eventually respond by sending him some money and requesting that he stop writing, he views this as a successful strategy and declares that he's going to "write two letters a week" from now on. This is a philosophy that works for me. I'm going to continue calling Lingner's office until they put me on "correspondence only" status. Then I'll write the Mayor's office!

For my part, I thanked Roberta for cleaning it up, and told her that I'd let her know in the future if it got smelly again. She said that besides being neighbors, we're friends, and that she doesn't want the cats to disrupt that. I acknowledged that and told her I agreed. And that's been the big dilemma all along: I like Roberta, but hate the cats. But when they're so inextricably tied, how do you deal with it?

February 27th

I got a call today from Zoning Enforcement at the City of Phoenix. An enforcement officer named Laurie told me that she was out there checking on a complaint about Roberta's carport. She says that it's built on the property line. She'll have to either take the carport down or get an easement. She wouldn't tell me who complained, but I would like to state categorically and for the record that I Did Not Make This Complaint. My complaints begin and end with the cats. Roberta could play the tuba at 5am and I wouldn't care. I need to talk to her about this and let her know that what probably happened is that one of the building inspectors probably noticed it and reported it. Just a guess on my part.

March 2003

We got a couple of letters over the past few weeks. The first was from Councilman Mattox's office. A friend knew someone who worked there and they presented the problem. I was at work one day and a call came in on my cell from someone in his office. She wanted to report that they sent an inspector out, but there were no cat feces on the property. She then told me she would like to hook me up with a group called Pets 911. She said they Trap, Neuter, and Release feral cats. I stopped her cold. "There's one word to many, there," I told her, and that's "release." If you bring them back they're still a nuisance.

I pressed her for reasons why there couldn't be an ordinance. She started weaseling, telling me to write my state legislators and county managers. Excuse me, but what control do they have over a city ordinance? I brought this up to her, albeit more politely. She then played her trump card: I wasn't in the Councilman's District, so they were merely handling this as a courtesy. This pretty much concluded the conversation.

The second and third letters were amusing. Leisa and I have been reported to the city as owning a property that is the paragon, the apex, the pinnacle, the zenith, the Mother of All Urban Blight. Why are we such progenitors of blight? Because of the weeds in the front yard. WEEDS? You come at me with weak stuff like this? We laughed. I talked to Mark and asked him to back his truck over the tall ones a few times when he parked in the front yard. Instead, he brought his weed eater and had Ernie or Lee spend a couple of minutes in the front yard. Next will be that Mark and Chris and Ernie are parking their vehicles on dirt, not grass.

Even the kitties with bells around their necks are going bye-bye!

Cat Miscellany:

My friend Lance is a James Bond fan, and believes that Pussy Galore and Octopussy would be related to the subject of Cats. He suggested that I put some pictures of these two fine Bond Girls here. Who am I to disagree?

Well, here they aren't. They were up for about six hours. Leisa disagreed. I had a picture of Honor Blackman and Maud Adams, but L though it bore too much of a resemblance to a porn site. She told me that if I wanted to leave the pictures of the Bond Girls on the site, I had to take her picture down. Hmmmmmm. Tough decision.

Honor and Maud are gone.