I guess I've got that source also. He's not as reliable as kids, poverty, etc., but he comes across on occasion. And he is my next door neighbor, Ron. Ron is in his late 30's. He's a big guy with a beer belly who likes to wear doo rags, cut-off Walmart jeans and day-glo t-shirts with "Security" printed on the back. When he's not littering his front lawn with a hundred bicycles he bought at an auction, practicing small engine repair on 10 or 20 broken down lawn mowers and snow throwers in his driveway or driving his go-cart around our court, he likes to try to kill me, cut the heads off of deer and ... trap cats.
On a given weekend morning, it's not unusual for me to step out the side door of my garage for a breath of fresh air and see something totally off the wall next door. This morning, groggy from losing an hour's sleep because of the stupid time change, I carried my cup of coffee out the side door and saw this:
I shook my head a couple of times to clear the cobwebs and looked again. Yeah, that's a cat all right. He's had that small animal trap sitting there all winter, but I thought it was just another piece in the menagerie of junky shit he keeps all around his house. Apparently, he armed and baited it last night. I don't know if he was really gunning for the raccoons that roam around here, or if he had specifically targeted cats.
This cat looked vaguely familiar, so I walked over to take a closer look at it to see if it was the same one that had taken a nose dive into my window well about a month ago.
Yup, same one. Geez Blackie, you're sure using up those nine lives at a good clip! While I was standing there, trying to figure out how to open the trap, the garage door started going up. So, rather than being caught trying to free the cat from it's holding cell, I skittered back over to my place. I don't know what would have been more weird ... me trying to explain why I was trying to let the cat out of the trap, or him trying to explain why he was trapping cats. But at 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning, I didn't feel like having one of those "life's awkward moments" experiences.
Anyway, I looked out the side door a couple of hours later, and the cat was gone. I figured that either a) He had freed the cat or b) Was preparing same cat for this evenings dinner. Knowing this guy, I wouldn't put "b" in the realm of the unlikely.
Being the curious sort, I looked up this site and learned that, indeed, there is more than one way to skin a cat and prepare a delicious feline main course. And, if I were you, I really wouldn't click on that link unless you want to ruin your appetite ... unless you already did, in which case it's too late and I really should have thought it through about placing this caution before the link.