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I hate cats!

They can't go by a car that they don't jump up on it and leave cat tracks all over it. When I was in college, I came out one night and found a cat curled up on the hood of my GTO, warming himself from the engine heat through the hood. I grabbed him, not careful how I did it and was going to throw him on the roof of the neighbor's house.

I had a coat on and good thing I did, because he bit and scratched every inch of my arm from my shoulder to my wrist. It was like grabbing a chain saw at full throttle. I couldn't let go of him fast enough.

Cats 1; Me 0

Our neighbors cat got into my garage somehow and of course he had to run all over the top of the GTO. I couldn't find the cat or how he got into the garage, so I washed the car and put it back in the garage. 2 days later, I look in the garage and there are cat tracks all over the car again.

I set some traps in the back of the garage and placed hamburger between the traps and came back the next day to capture the cat. The hamburger was gone, no cat in the traps. How he was able to survive in the garage that long without water, I will never know.

I then cut a piece of plywood that would completely enclose the area under the stairs, as that is where he had to be hiding, I could never find him. I cut a hole just lsrge enough for him to crawl through and put more hamburger and traps out.

The next day, bingo, a cat in the trap. I thought I would pull him and the trap out from under the cover he had, but I had forgotten about cats and chainsaws. My memory was cleared instantly and I was quickly reminded of a pissed off cat.

17 shots later with a pellet gun and lots of cat screaming, he expired and I threw him in the garbage.

My neighbor commented a couple weeks later that he hadn't seen his cat around for nearly 2 weeks. I said the last time I saw him he was headed to the garbage can. They never figured it out...

You are a prick.

You are a prick.

Cats roaming the country side are pests not pets. Like cats fine, keep them at home.

I hate cats!

They can't go by a car that they don't jump up on it and leave cat tracks all over it. When I was in college, I came out one night and found a cat curled up on the hood of my GTO, warming himself from the engine heat through the hood. I grabbed him, not careful how I did it and was going to throw him on the roof of the neighbor's house.

I had a coat on and good thing I did, because he bit and scratched every inch of my arm from my shoulder to my wrist. It was like grabbing a chain saw at full throttle. I couldn't let go of him fast enough.

Cats 1; Me 0

Our neighbors cat got into my garage somehow and of course he had to run all over the top of the GTO. I couldn't find the cat or how he got into the garage, so I washed the car and put it back in the garage. 2 days later, I look in the garage and there are cat tracks all over the car again.

I set some traps in the back of the garage and placed hamburger between the traps and came back the next day to capture the cat. The hamburger was gone, no cat in the traps. How he was able to survive in the garage that long without water, I will never know.

I then cut a piece of plywood that would completely enclose the area under the stairs, as that is where he had to be hiding, I could never find him. I cut a hole just lsrge enough for him to crawl through and put more hamburger and traps out.

The next day, bingo, a cat in the trap. I thought I would pull him and the trap out from under the cover he had, but I had forgotten about cats and chainsaws. My memory was cleared instantly and I was quickly reminded of a pissed off cat.

17 shots later with a pellet gun and lots of cat screaming, he expired and I threw him in the garbage.

My neighbor commented a couple weeks later that he hadn't seen his cat around for nearly 2 weeks. I said the last time I saw him he was headed to the garbage can. They never figured it out...

This is a tie for the greatest cat story ever told.

The other is Steve Timm’s. It involved the .220 Swift Improved.

My Brothers purebred red heeler was his cow dog/pheasant pointer and used to kill cats on a weekly basis.

Out pheasant hunting, we would see a cat's tail weaving through the grass. A pointed finger and PSSSST.

The dog was on the cat like a lightning bolt. He grabbed them right over the shoulders with the first bite, worked his way to the hips, and back to the head. We never saw him take even a scratch mark. He would prance back to our side with his tail high and proud. What's next? What's next?

Go find a bird!

He kept the feral cats at bay very well around the farm, but never touched a barn cat around the homestead. He only killed on command.