Rosio Pavoris

People need to stop fucking with my cats.

A while ago I mentioned we had cats now. What actually happened was that my neighbors had cats (two of them), but their kids abused them and they couldn’t be bothered to house-train them so they spent most of their time in our backyard and, eventually, inside our house. Eventually my neighbors noticed and the guy just gave us the paperwork and told us we could have them.
Then, a few months ago, the wife moved out and took the kids, and the kids took our fucking cats. The neighbor wouldn’t tell us where they went (and possibly didn’t know himself), and it didn’t seem worth the hassle of a lawsuit, so we eventually let it go.

We thought that was the end of it, until my sister noticed this.
“Belleke” (we called her Walter, which is a rather more dignified name, I think) was left at the animal shelter because she “didn’t get along with the other cat of the house” (whom we called Evarist; I think they called her Mousti), which is obviously bullshit.
That’s just rude. It’s not like they don’t have our phone number.

We’re seeing about getting her back tomorrow. And after that people seriously need to stop fucking with my cat.

Update: It’s a different cat, people. My sister is blind.