We have been having some troubles with the wild cats that roam our town. No, not cougars, panthers or cheetahs. Feral house cats who breed like rabbits and live under the local bottle depot. They tear up the garden, tear up the garbage, wake us up with their catfights and are generally a big nuisance. Our front garden has suffered horribly at the paws of these beasts and the Hero has been fed up with them for some time. We tried to get cat traps from by-law but they are all out at the moment and they are in the process of ordering more (this shows how big of a problem this has become in our community).
Last night we had come home around 1o:30 pm and were scarcely home a few minutes when the screeching began, this time in the backyard. Furious the Hero went flying out the back door with bear spray in hand. There was not much thought in his actions, he didn't take the lovely breeze into consideration until it was too late. He yelled for Kodiak to shut his office window and I quickly shut the kitchen window. Then he came stumbling blindly to the back door and rushing to the sink. Blinded by the mist of backspray and gasping for air. Kodiak and I were laughing so hard we could barely get words out to see if he was ok. I don't know if we will see those cats again as they were probably traumatized by the raving lunatic blinded by his own weapon.