Exhibit: Cat.

My hatred for cats is well-documented. I've written about it on this site, and ask anybody who knows me. They will likely say that while chances are good I'll never marry (or even see another man naked ever again), they are fully confident I will not become crazy cat-lady. Gerbil-lady -- perhaps. Crazy purse-lady who throws rocks at small children from her window -- most likely.

Cats are on my mind again because we have an infestation at my place of employment. I'm fortunate to work in an absolutely beautiful, pastoral setting complete with deer, swans, ducks, bunnies and...cats.

Nobody knows where these cats came from, but if I had to guess I would say they wondered away from their previous homes having neither the brains nor loyalty to stay put. I'm certain that for several weeks their former keepers focused their misplaced grief toward posting signs on telephone poles stating: "Help! Lost cat! Muffin is a 25-pound tabby and we miss her! Please call...etc. etc."

Notice that no Missing Cat poster ever suggests Muffin might be homesick? It's because cats actually hate you. Notice as well, that no poster ever claims that Muffin answers to her name when called? What a lousy pet.

Even if a Good Samaritan were to notice the 25 pound Muffin prowling the 'hood, how would he begin to make a positive ID, apart from the fact that a 25 pound cat would make a pretty good dent in one's car. In a perfect world, the loser of the cat could confirm that the dent matches the exact shape the cat left in its favourite sofa cushion, right next to the hair and claw marks.

So now there are approximately five cats who have become our problem. To me they are a problem, to others they are an excuse to go feed something. Today an email went out suggesting if we see one particular cat in our area, we are to shoo it away because it is attacking and killing the baby bunnies.

Personally, I would rather live in a world with baby bunnies. I freaking love those baby bunnies. The bunnies outside our building are so tame they'll jump up and rest their little feet on your legs as you feed them carrots. And the babies...the babies are so cute even my ovaries unfreeze just a little. And they're getting slaughtered. By cats.

If I see this cat, I'm not going to want to "shoo" it. I'm going to want to chase it with a sledge-hammer. I'm going to want to drive over it with my car while cranking Billie Idol's, "Rebel Yell." I'm going to want to hang it from a pole so that it can serve as a warning to every other cat trespassing on this property.

Don't mess with the bunnies. I'm on to you Muffin.