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Cat Defender

Exposing the Lies and Crimes of Bird Advocates, Wildlife Biologists, the United States Fish and Wildlife Service, PETA, the Humane Society of the United States, Exterminators, Vivisectors, the Scientific Community, Fur Traffickers, Cloners, Breeders, Designer Pet Purveyors, Hoarders, Motorists, the United States Military, and Other Ailurophobes

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Kayden Is Run Down Three Times in Succession by a Van Driver in Yet Still Another Graphic Example of How So Many Motorists Intentionally Kill Cats

Lovable and Friendly Kayden

"It has sickened us that someone could be so barbaric. At the end of the day, no animal deserves to die like that."
-- Hannah MacDonald

As if any further proof were needed that motorists run down and kill cats intentionally, the events that unfolded shortly after midnight on April 28th of last year at the corner of Dunley Drive and Brockham Crescent in the New Addington neighborhood of the borough of Croydon surely constitute the clincher. Moreover, they graphically demonstrate the extraordinary lengths that some of these diabolical monsters are prepared to go to in order to kill cats.

On that tragic occasion, a sweet as pie two-year-old brown and white tom named Kayden was crossing the street when he was run down, not once, but three times in succession by the driver of a white delivery van. Not about to stick around and face the music, the cowardly brute immediately fled the scene and it is unlikely that the world ever would have known exactly what had transpired if an unidentified member of the public had not witnessed the premeditated attack and promptly reported it to the RSPCA.

"The description given was that a white van was seen deliberately running over the tabby and white cat three times," a spokesman for the charity later confirmed to the Croydon Advertiser on May 2, 2014. (See "New Addington Cat Owner's Fury after Beloved Pet Is Run Over Three Times by Van Driver.")

The gory details have not been made public but after initially knocking Kayden to the pavement the driver presumably stopped, backed up, and then took two additional runs at him. Whereas Kayden conceivably might have weathered one such attack, he never stood a chance when pitted against such a determined adversary.

"When we arrived sadly the cat was lying in the middle of the road and had already died," the spokesman added to the Croydon Advertiser. "We took it into our care and have passed on details of the incident to the police."

Kayden's owner, twenty-one-year-old Hannah MacDonald of Dunley Drive, learned of his cruel fate secondhand from her mother, Debbie. "My mother was at home and the (RSPCA) inspector knocked on the door and asked were we missing a cat," she confided to the Croydon Advertiser. "My mum said yes, and the inspector said: 'I am so sorry. We have got him in the van'."

The nature of Kayden's injuries has not been made public but it is difficult to imagine that his body could have been anything other than mangled almost beyond recognition. "I would like to know that he died straightaway," MacDonald wistfully told the Croydon Advertiser. "It would be hard to think of him in pain."

Although the eyewitness telephoned to the RSPCA at 12:10 a.m., it is not known when it arrived on the scene. It therefore is impossible to know exactly when Kayden was attacked and how long he was forced to suffer.

Hannah MacDonald Holds Up a Digital Photo of Kayden 

Nevertheless, there simply is not any way of getting around the horrible reality that the initial blow delivered by the driver must have inflicted unbearable pain upon him. Additional excruciating discomfort undoubtedly followed as his attacker continued to get his perverted jollies right up until Kayden's tiny little heart finally gave out on him and ceased to beat.

"My family are (sic) absolutely devastated, as Kaydon was not only a cat to us, but a member of the family," is how MacDonald eulogized him to the Croydon Advertiser. "He was such a lovely, friendly cat. He should not have been a cat: he should have been a kid or something."

Regardless of either their personalities or social status, cats are seldom able to come out on top in this ailurophobic world. For example, wary, homeless ones are systematically rounded up and exterminated en masse by wildlife biologists, ornithologists, and so-called rescue groups whereas their opposites are, more often than not, done in by the treachery of their owners as well as their own sociability.

In Kayden's case, he was far too trusting of humans for his own good. "He used to wait on the corner and then as soon as he saw someone, even if he had no idea who they were, he would follow them onto the street," MacDonald disclosed to the Croydon Advertiser. "He would even miaow at them."

In addition to inexcusably allowing him to roam the perilous streets of south London at all hours of the night without the benefit of a chaperon, MacDonald is guilty of turning a blind eye to the telltale signs of the myriad of dangers that she was exposing him to on a daily basis. For instance, it was only three weeks prior to his horrific murder that an abscess had developed on his head as the result his having been tortured by an unidentified cretin armed with a burning cigarette.

"He was always in trouble," she candidly admitted to the Croydon Advertiser. Yet, she inexplicably did little or nothing in order to shield him from the terrible abuses that those who hate cats inflict upon members of the species.

"It has sickened us that someone could be so barbaric," she told the Croydon Advertiser in reference to the criminal conduct of the driver of the van. "At the end of the day, no animal deserves to die like that."

Although the RSPCA initially pledged to investigate Kayden's death, it seems to have limited its response to making its customary appeal to the general public to do its job for it. It likewise is extremely unlikely that the Metropolitan Police Service has stirred so much as a muscle in order to bring Kayden's killer to the altar of justice.

Sox Relaxes with Logan and Ava Donoghue

No one knows where or how it all began for Kayden. MacDonald acquired custody of him when he was only five weeks old after he had been rescued by an  old boyfriend of hers from a car park in the Surrey Quays area of Rotherhithe in the adjoining borough of Southwark, twenty-one kilometers removed from New Addington.

From all outward indications, she and her mother cared deeply about him and it is beyond dispute that he grew into a loving and trusting cat. None of that in any way compensates for either the brevity of his life or his violent death.

He therefore is destined to always be remembered as a sad and tragic figure and absolutely nothing can alter that scenario at this terribly late date. If there is anything positive to be gained from his life and death it lies in the belated realization that owners like MacDonald simply must do a far better job in the future of safeguarding the fragile lives of cats like him.

Fifty-six-year-old grandmother Denise Donoghue of Charles Street in Carlisle, Cumbria, is well-acquainted with the heartbreak felt by MacDonald. That is because her black cat Sox was run down by a hit-and-run motorist at the intersection of Grey Street and London Road on Bastille Day back in 2013.

Although Sox sustained substantial injuries to both his face and one of his legs, he survived. Even in doing so he was facing the prospect of either being crippled for life or of losing the leg altogether.

His ordeal has been difficult not only on Donoghue but also on her thirty-four-year-old daughter, Alicia, and her two grandchildren, eight-year-old Logan and six-year-old Ava. "My daughter heard the cat screaming outside," she told the News and Star of Carlisle on July 17, 2013. (See "Anger after Driver Left Injured Cat to Die on Carlisle Road.") "They were going to operate and my daughter was distraught."

She additionally knows only too well the anger felt by MacDonald and so many others at motorists who make a sport out of killing defenseless, unsuspecting cats. "This person cannot have a conscience; they (sic) must have thought it was nothing," Donoghue added to the News and Star. "It would be nice if they could have come forward and said sorry."

If she genuinely expects an apology from Sox's assailant, Donoghue is living in a dream world. Far from feeling so much as a twinge of remorse, motorists who kill cats not only get an adrenalin rush out of perpetrating such vile crimes but they actually feel proud of their devilry.

Delilah Survived a Simply Heinous Act of Animal Cruelty

Merely running down cats with automobiles is, unfortunately, not always sufficient as far as some motorists are concerned; instead, they like to use the busy roads and highways as convenient sites in order to dump both cats and kittens. For example on August 20, 2013, a brown and black female subsequently named Delilah was tossed from a red hatchback on Cairngorm Drive in Kincorth, a suburb south of Aberdeen.

As if that were not horrific enough in its own right, the motorist traveling behind the hatchback then ran over Delilah without even attempting to either brake or veer around her. She was thrown to the side of the road upon impact but, amazingly, had both the prerequisite strength and presence of mind in order to scamper into a nearby garden before finally securing sanctuary on a window ledge.

"Understandably, Delilah was absolutely petrified when I came to collect her," Karen Hogg of the Scottish SPCA told the BBC on August 21, 2013. (See "Cat Thrown from Car in Aberdeen and Then Run Over.") "Delilah has used up at least two of her nine lives in what appears to have been an incredibly cruel act."

She was taken to the charity's shelter in Drumoak, twenty-two kilometers south of Aberdeen, where she was treated for only a minor scrape on her nose and unspecified damage done to the pads on her feet. That was the very last that ever was heard of her although the good news is that she was expected to have made a complete recovery. Although the charity did issue an appeal for information regarding the identity of the perpetrator of this unconscionable crime, it is extremely doubtful that such a half-hearted effort produced the desired result.

Nevertheless, Delilah owes her life to not only the Scottish SPCA but also to having had the good fortune to have been born in a civilized country. If, for instance, she had been born in the United States her fate could have been entirely different.

In an almost identical case, a pretty five-week-old forever nameless orange and white kitten was thrown from a black, four-door car at around noon on July 8, 2010 on I-24 in Chattanooga. It then bounced off a retaining wall and was struck, like Delilah, by another motorist.

It was spared an almost immediate and horrific death when David Livesay stopped and scooped it out of harm's way. He then spent the next four hours unsuccessfully attempting to procure life-saving emergency veterinary care for it but was stiffed by every veterinarian that he contacted.

"It's a life! It's a life!" he pleaded in vain. "Anything alive is worth saving."

The Ill-Fated Chattanooga Kitten

He eventually gave up and surrendered it to a notorious feline extermination factory that falsely bills itself as the McKamey Animal Care and Adoption Center where whatever residue of life that remained in its tiny body was quickly snuffed out. (See Cat Defender post of July 16, 2010 entitled "Tossed Out the Window of a Car Like an Empty Beer Can, Injured Chattanooga Kitten Is Left to Die after at Least Two Veterinarians Refused to Treat It.")

In retrospect, Livesay should have known better than to have asked his fellow Americans for assistance in that the only things that they care about are their respective tribal groups, money, killing, mindless self-indulgence, and the putting on of an endless charade designed to convince a skeptical outside world that they are the direct opposites of what they are in reality. Seldom, if ever, do they allow any other considerations to penetrate their exceedingly thick craniums.

There are at least three common threads that run throughout each of these cats' stories. First and most prominently, is the senseless waste of feline lives and the ruinous injuries inflicted upon even those cats lucky enough to survive the lawless machinations of motorists.

Secondly, whenever a cat is run down there are always significantly wider ramifications. For instance, there is the pain and anger that is inflicted upon not only owners like MacDonald and the Donoghues but also upon those kindhearted individuals like Hogg and Livesay who come to the assistance of those that have been abandoned and are now homeless.

Thirdly, none of those individuals involved in the commission of these dastardly crimes ever has been apprehended. Even more disturbingly, there is not a scintilla of evidence in the public record to even suggest that either the police or any animal protection group has ever lifted so much as a finger in order to even look for their assailants.

These types of assaults most definitely not only could be stopped but their perpetrators located and jailed as well if only the will to do so existed. Since that quite obviously is not the case, the only sensible recourse left open to owners is for them to do their utmost in order to keep their cats out of the street.

Despite their best intentions, however, even vigilant caretakers cannot always be there for their cats. For example, their beloved companions sometimes inexplicably escape from houses, fenced-in yards, and even pet carriers.

Others are cruelly abandoned either near or, worst still, on busy thoroughfares. Topping all of those concerns is the safety of those cats that are altogether homeless as well as those that belong to managed TNR colonies.

Accordingly, merely restricting the liberties of cats does not go nearly far enough. Rather, it is imperative that the roads and streets be made safe for both them and all other animals alike and the only way to achieve that lofty goal is for the authorities to not only arrest and jail all motorists who refuse to stop for them but to permanently revoke their licenses as well.

Photos: Croydon Advertiser (Kayden, MacDonald), News and Star (Sox), Scottish SPCA (Delilah), and WTVC-TV of Chattanooga (kitten).

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Harry Is Run Down and Killed by a Pair of Derbyshire Police Officers Who Then Steal and Dispose of His Body in an Amateurish Attempt to Cover Up Their Heinous Crime

Harry

"Two days later I saw Tony's poster and recognized the picture of the cat. I rang him to tell him that the police had killed his cat. I was gobsmacked that they hadn't already informed him."
-- Ali Nisar

Contrary to what an awful lot of addlebrained, unthinking individuals choose to believe with all their hearts, it is extremely rare for a cat to be accidentally killed by a motorist. Au contraire, just about all of those that end up as roadkill are the victims of malice aforethought.

That is because cats are not only terrified of loud noises and fast-moving objects but they additionally are fleet-footed. It therefore is not any surprise that the bodies of those that have been run down are usually found on either the sides or edges of streets and roads.

Their outstretched legs are yet still another inescapable indication that they were running at full speed for the safety of the other side, which often was only inches away, when they were deliberately cut down in mid-stride. It furthermore is spurious for detractors to argue that they were in the middle of the road when struck and thus thrown to the side upon impact because cats that have had their necks broken and heads smashed in die instantaneously on the spot where they were hit.

In addition to all of that, motorists who deliberately kill cats never slow down, brake, sound their horns, or even bother to so much as veer around them; rather, they shower down on the accelerator and even change lanes for the opportunity in order to mow them down. Most telling of all, none of the these serial hit-and-run artists ever stop unless it is to admire the fruits of their handiwork.

Not only have none of these cat-murdering devils ever been arrested and thus forced to answer for their heinous crimes in a court of law but it is almost unheard of for anyone to so much as question their right to kill cats and other animals with impunity. Like the beating to death of homeless men, using an automobile in order to kill a cat constitutes the perfect crime.

Perhaps even more unjust than all of that is the societal drumbeat which dishonestly blames both the victims and their caretakers for their deaths. As is the case with just about everything else in human affairs, first comes the crime followed closely at heel by an outrageous pack of lies concocted in order to obfuscate, justify and, finally, to dismiss it.

The killing of cats with automobiles has reached such epidemic proportions that it now rivals both cricket and baseball in popularity. Moreover, such patently immoral and criminal behavior is not only indulged in by private citizens but the police as well.

That was the harsh and shocking reality that recently was brought home to a family of four from the Normanton section of Derby after a pair of officers from the Derbyshire Police ran down and killed their beloved three-year-old ginger-colored cat, Harry. The timeline of events has not been spelled out in press reports but it nonetheless is believed that Harry disappeared from the house on Palmerston Street that he shared with forty-two-year-old restaurateur Tony Hunt, his thirty-year-old common law wife Zoe Price, and their two children, five-year-old Lily and one-year-old Thomas, sometime on Sunday, April 19th.

Unable to locate either hide or hair of him, Hunt spent the following two days looking high and low for him without so much as an inkling of success. Fortunately, he had had the bon sens to plaster his neighborhood with "Lost Cat" posters and that belatedly did the trick although the outcome that they produced was the absolute last thing in the world that he ever wanted.

"Two days later I saw Tony's poster and recognized the picture of the cat," his sixteen-year-old conscientious neighbor Ali Nisar told the Daily Mail on April 26th. (See "Family Furious after Pet Cat Harry Was Killed 'By a Police Car Before Officers Disposed of the Body Without Telling Them'.") "I rang him to tell him that the police had killed his cat. I was gobsmacked that they hadn't already informed him."

Nisar subsequently revealed that the police officers were speeding with their blue emergency lights flashing when they ran down and killed Harry at the intersection of Clarence and Livingstone roads. "The cat was in the middle of the road but the car went straight over it," Hunt, relying upon Nisar's eyewitness account of events, related to the Daily Mail. "They didn't seem to brake, but I don't know how they could not have seen it."

The police offices did stop, however, but it was neither to procure emergency veterinary treatment for Harry nor to locate and inform his guardian about what had occurred. Instead, one of the officers wasted precious time by putting the bite on an unidentified local resident for a black trash bag into which Harry was placed before being nonchalantly tossed into the boot of the cruiser. They then fled the scene of the crime like a pair of scalded hounds although it has not been revealed if they were still in the same haste as before and with their disco lights flashing.

Much more importantly, it has not been disclosed either if Harry was still alive at that point or even the extent of his injuries. It therefore is entirely conceivable that his life could have been saved if only the officers had acted differently.

This case bears a sickening and disturbing resemblance to the events that unfolded on November 11, 2011 on Settlers Lane in Harrisonburg, Virginia. On that god-awful occasion a cat of undisclosed pedigree, sex, and name was run down and severely injured by a hit-and-run motorist.

Its desperate plight was discovered by area resident Wayne Meadows who contacted the Harrisonburg Police Department which in turn dispatched twenty-five-year-old officer Jonathan N. Snoddy to the scene. Instead of procuring veterinary help for it, which was only thirty minutes away, he proceeded to bash out its brains against Meadows' porch as well as to play a sadistic game of rat-a-tat-tat against its head with his night stick.

Snoddy was belatedly indicted on animal cruelty charges and stood in the dock twice but ultimately was exonerated. Needless to say, the authorities never even bothered to so much as look for the motorist. (See Cat Defender posts of March 22, 2012, April 26, 2012, and August 23, 2012 entitled, respectively, "In Another Outrageous Miscarriage of Justice, Rogue Cop Jonathan N. Snoddy Is Let Off with a $50 Fine for Savagely Bludgeoning to Death an Injured Cat," "Virginia's Disreputable Legal and Political Establishment Is All Set to Acquit Jonathan N. Snoddy at His Retrial for Brutally Beating to Death an Injured Cat," and "Cat-Killing Cop Jonathan N. Snoddy Struts Out of Court as Free as a Bird Thanks to a Carefully Choreographed Charade Concocted by Virginia's Despicable and Dishonest Legal System.")

Tony Hunt

Acting upon what Nisar had confided to him, Hunt telephoned the Derbyshire Police but if he was expecting either compassion or an apology he was barking up the wrong tree. "I called 101 straightaway and eventually spoke to a desk sergeant who confirmed Harry had been hit and said he had been disposed of," he told the Daily Mail. "There was no compassion whatsoever."

Instead of instigating a civil lawsuit against the police for not only killing Harry but for stealing and disposing of his remains as well, Hunt appears to be content with venting his spleen. "He just died without any dignity at all and I am appalled by the attitude of the officers concerned," he fumed to the Derby Telegraph on April 25th. (See "'Police Car Killed Our Cat and Officers Just Dumped His Body in a Bag'.") "I want them to give my daughter an apology. That's the least they can do."

Although the police's Professional Standards Department did open an internal investigation into the matter, it has not been publicly revealed either what conclusions it reached or if Hunt ever received an apology. Based upon the force's initial reaction to Harry's killing, however, it seems unlikely that Hunt and his family have received so much as an iota of satisfaction on either count.

"We can confirm that we are investigating a complaint about two officers, who were in a police car that allegedly collided with a cat, and the officers' subsequent actions. The investigation is at an early stage. We have spoken to Mr. Hunt and we will be speaking to him again next week," an unidentified spokesman for the police told the Derby Telegraph. "We're in the process of trying to identify the officers who are allegedly involved to get their account of what happened. We're aware of how distressed the family is and we're eager to get the matter resolved as soon as possible."

Whenever police misconduct is uncovered it is always the same auld lang syne whether the location is Harrisonburg, Derby, or elsewhere. First of all, internal investigations rarely if ever lead to lawbreaking officers being so much as disciplined let alone either fired or indicted.

Plus, the findings of these inquiries almost always remain private. Although it may not be visible to the naked eye, the blue wall of silence is every bit as real as the Great Wall of China.

Secondly, all police officers are notorious liars. For example, in this particular instance the Derbyshire Police lied when their spokesman claimed not to know the identities of the officers who killed Harry.

The department most assuredly knew which officers were on duty that day and the general vicinity in which they were stationed. It also would be highly unusual in this day and age if all of their cruisers were not equipped with both tracking devices and monitors that record their speed, location, and other pertinent data.

It therefore seems perfectly obvious that the police could have cleared up this matter almost immediately if they ran anything even remotely approaching an honest and aboveboard constabulary. Above all, the offending offices should have been promptly identified and forced to answer for their actions in at least civil proceedings as well as in the court of public opinion.

It also never has been explained what emergency they were responding to in such haste. It likewise is peculiar that they so quickly forget all about the supposed emergency in order to stop and collect Harry's body.

Although there cannot be any doubt that they were in a hurry to get somewhere, they could have been engaged in private as opposed to police business. For instance, they could have been either joyriding or attempting to see how much speed they could get out of their cruiser.

They also could have been on a food run in that it is not uncommon for cops as well as ambulance drivers and firemen to run down and kill not only cats but pedestrians all for the sake of a bowl of chop suey. Many cops even travel outside of their jurisdictions in order to satisfy their palates.

Since one of the officers involved was a WPC, it is conceivable they they were racing lickety-split to some seedy motel for a bit of good old-fashioned slap and tickle. It is doubtful that they were on their way to church, especially in such a hellfire hurry. After all, the salvation of the soul can wait for another day but it is an entirely different matter with those desires that burn red-hot in the loins.

Regardless of whatever the officers were up to there is no mistaking the readily discernible pattern of lawlessness exhibited by both them and their commanders. First of all, if the officers were not responding to a legitimate emergency they are guilty of both speeding and reckless driving. They also could be charged with vehicular homicide for killing Harry but since English society, to its eternal discredit, cares so little about the sanctity of feline life that is not about to happen in a million years.

Secondly, they are guilty of not only destroying evidence and orchestrating a cover-up but also of stealing and liquidating private property. Thirdly, the brass is as guilty as sin of deliberately lying to the public, obfuscating the truth, and stonewalling.

"Harry was a huge part of our lives and now a big chunk has been taken out of it (sic)," Hunt moaned to the Derby Telegraph. Whereas there is not any reason to question his fidelity, his conduct throughout this tragedy nevertheless leaves quite a bit to be desired.

Piper Recuperating at Home

Most egregious of all was his abject failure to protect Harry from the machinations of motorists. Only a minute percentage of those cats that are killed by hit-and-run motorists ever make the news but even those that do is more than sufficient to paint a rather grim picture of the way that things stand. (See Cat Defender posts of November 21, 2012, January 30, 2010, and August 17, 2006 entitled, respectively, "Officials at Plymouth College of Art Should Be Charged with Gross Negligence and Animal Cruelty in the Tragic Death of the School's Longtime Resident Feline, PCAT," "Casper Is Run Down and Killed by a Hit-and-Run Taxi Driver While Crossing the Street in Order to Get to the Bus Stop," and "Brave Little Fred the Undercover Cat Has His Short, Tragic Life Snuffed Out by a Hit-and-Run Driver in Queens.")

Even those cats fortunate enough to somehow survive these types of assaults often face months of recuperation and even then end up maimed for life. (See Cat Defender posts of November 10, 2014, May 2, 2012, January 5, 2011, April 29, 2010, September 12, 2009, August 20, 2009, and March 5, 2007 entitled, respectively, "Freya, the Chancellor of the Exchequer's Resident Feline, Cheats Death Once Again When She Survives Being Run Down and Injured by a Motorist but Her Good Luck Cannot Last for Much Longer," "Pregnant, Abandoned, and Then Deliberately Almost Killed by a Hit-and-Run Driver, Sugar Crawls Back to Her Subterranean Abode in Order to Feed Her Kittens," "Gunned Down by an Assassin and Then Mowed Down by a Hit-and-Run Driver, Big Bob Loses a Leg but Survives and Now Is Looking for a Home," "Long Suffering River Finally Finds a Home after Having Been Run Over by a Motorist and Nearly Drowned," "Luzie Sustains a Broken Hip and a Bloody Mouth Before She Is Successfully Rescued from the Busy Elbtunnel," "Combine Operator Severs Howard's Front Paws and Leaves Him in a Ditch to Die but He Is Saved at the Last Minute by a Pair of Compassionate Lads," and "Run Down by a Motorist and Frozen to the Ice by His Own Blood, Cat Named Roo is Saved by a Caring Woman.")

Without knowing just how busy the streets in Normanton are, it is difficult to speculate if Harry should have been allowed to venture beyond the safety of Hunt's yard. Perhaps he simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time when the police officers in question chose to indulge themselves in their criminal conduct. Regardless of conditions in the neighborhood, it is Hunt who is going to have to live with Harry's death and only he known if he did all that was within his power in order to safeguard his fragile existence.

It is beyond question, however, that Hunt erred grievously by relying upon an implanted microchip as opposed to equipping Harry with a more conventional collar. "He was not wearing a collar because his old one had broken just the day before and we were in the process of getting a new one," he disclosed to the Derby Telegraph. "But Harry was microchipped so it would not have been difficult for them to have found out who the owner was."

First of all, neither a microchip, collar, nor a tattoo offer any cat the least bit of protection against the machinations of motorists and other ailurophobes and it is utter folly for anyone to think otherwise. (See Cat Defender post of May 25, 2006 entitled " Plato's Misadventures Expose the Pitfalls of RFID Technology as Applied to Cats.")

Secondly, private citizens normally do not have access to the scanners that are required in order to decipher microchips and it is almost unheard of for rescue groups and shelters, which have them, to scan dead cats for the purpose of returning their remains to their owners. Furthermore, it is utterly laughable for anyone to believe that a cop who has just killed a cat is about to incriminate either himself or herself by scanning it for the purpose of returning its body to its rightful owner.

In the case of a cat outfitted with a collar there is always the possibility that a concerned citizen will utilize the information contained on it in order to return its body to its owner. That is not very likely, however, unless the individual just happens to be acquainted with the aggrieved caretaker.

There also seems to be a certain amount of ambiguity in Hunt's mind as to just what he would have done with Harry's remains even if they had been returned to him. "If they (the police) had just placed him at the side of the road I am sure we would have found him and been able to have him cremated," he declared to the Derby Telegraph.

When he first spoke on the telephone to the Derbyshire Police, however, he neglected to express any desire whatsoever to have Harry's remains returned to him. "He (the desk sergeant) didn't go into details as to how Harry had been disposed of and I didn't want to know, to be honest," he confessed to the Daily Mail. "For all I know, they could have tossed him straight in the bin."

Although opinions vary widely on this sensitive subject, it nevertheless is believed that anyone who genuinely loved a cat not only would want its remains returned so that they could be properly buried in a grave with a tombstone on top. Besides, burning a cat's corpse to smithereens is not necessarily a moral upgrade over whatever the cops ultimately did with Harry's remains.

Hunt additionally is guilty of taking way too much for granted when he declares that he is confident that he would have discovered Harry's corpse if the police had left it untouched at the side of the road. That is because garbagemen and private citizens routinely collect dead cats and toss their corpses into the trash without so much as a second thought as to the feelings of their grieving owners.

Wild animals also drag them off to parts unknown for later consumption and on top of all of that they decompose extremely rapidly during hot weather. Generally speaking, unless a cat is cut down during a deep freeze its remains do not last for very long.

Finally, since Harry was not wearing a collar there is always the remote possibility that Hunt would have been incapable of even accurately identifying his remains. Cats of the same size, color, and length of fur coupled with similar facial features are easily confounded, especially if their heads and faces have been caved in by a motorist.

For instance in the spring of 2013, forty-eight-year-old Karen Jones of Mardol Road in Ashford, Kent, scooped up from the street the lifeless body of what she believed to be her beloved two-year-old cat, Norman. Following an hourlong memorial service the next day, she interred his remains in her garden and placed a black porcelain cat on top as a grave marker.

Imagine then her shock the following morning when Norman turned up for breakfast. "At first I thought he had been resurrected from the dead but he didn't know what all the fuss was about," she later revealed. "Then I realized we must have had the wrong cat."

Nothing is ever either simple or easy when it comes to cats and that in turn makes it extremely risky to take anything for granted. (See Cat Defender post of June 12, 2013 entitled "Pronounced Dead, Eulogized, and Then Relegated to the Underworld, Norman Astounds His Guardian by Turning Up Hungry and Grumpy for Breakfast the Very Next Morning.")

Pompey II, Luis Ramos, Limerick, and Laurene Bove

The cruel set of circumstances that befell Harry and his guardian also make it clear that locating a dead cat is every bit as daunting a task as reclaiming a live one. "If it hadn't been for my neighbor witnessing what happened, we'd still be searching for him now," Hunt declared to the Daily Mail.

Although there is some truth in that assumption, it also is possible that if Nisar had not witnessed what the cops had done they very well in all likelihood would have kept on going without stopping to steal Harry's body. That is because no motorist, whether he be either a cop or a civilian, ever pulls over in order to collect the body of a cat that he has killed unless he has an especially good reason for doing so.

Lastly, Hunt intentionally lied to Lily when he told her that Harry had died and gone to heaven. He additionally failed to inform her that it was precisely the police who had killed her beloved companion.

At the end of the day there really is not any point of lying to children. Sooner or later they are going to learn for themselves just how mean, immoral, and deadly most people are and that dire assessment of the human condition most definitely includes the police.

It does not count for very much in a world where small groups, usually organized along ethnic lines, with money and guns to burn lord it all over creation but there nevertheless is a certain amount of power to be gained through the accumulation of wisdom. "Remember that now you can have confidence in yourself always," Hercule Poirot counseled Norma Restarick in Dame Agatha's 1966 novel, The Third Girl. "To have known, at close quarters, what absolute evil means is to be armoured against what life can do to you."

Harry's death at the hands of the Derbyshire Police is the first such known incident to have occurred in England in recent memory. In the United States, for example, it is quite another story altogether.

Specifically, cops routinely not only run down and kill cats with impunity but quite often execute them on the street with their revolvers and then toss their ensanguinated bodies bodies into the nearest trash can. That is precisely what they have done to Elmo, Tobey, Haze, and Larry in recent memory. (See Cat Defender posts of March 31, 2008, September 16, 2009, and September 22, 2011 entitled, respectively, "Cecil, Pennsylvania, Police Officer Summarily Executes Family's Beloved Ten-Year-Old Persian Elmo," "Acting Solely Upon the Lies of a Cat-Hater, Raymore Police Pump Two Shotgun Blasts into the Head of Nineteen-Year-Old Declawed and Deaf Tobey," and "Neanderthaloid Politicians in Lebanon, Ohio, Wholeheartedly Sanction the Illegal and Cold-Blooded Murder of Haze by a Trigger-Happy Cop," plus the Norfolk Daily News, February 8, 2014, "Bloomfield Officer Disciplined for Killing Cat.")

Whenever a cat, such as Clark, walks away from one of their murderous assaults with his life it is nothing short of a miracle. (See Cat Defender post of September 27, 2014 entitled "Falsely Branded as Being Rabid by a Cat-Hater, an Animal Control Officer, and the Gorham Police Department, Clark Is Hounded Down and Blasted with a Shotgun.")

Considering the large number of cats that they either kill or maim in their official capacity as police officers, it is not the least bit surprising that they do likewise at their leisure. (See Cat Defender post of July 8, 2010 entitled "North Carolina State Trooper Who Illegally Trapped and Shot His Next-Door Neighbor's Cat, Rowdy, Is Now Crying for His Job Back" plus the Daily Mail, May 24, 2013, "Off-Duty Texas Police Officer Arrested after Shooting Neighbor's Cat with Arrow" and the Houston Press, June 6, 2013, "Lance DeLeon: Cop Fired after Shooting Neighbor's Cat with Arrow.")

Some forces, such as the Alaskan State Police, are so antagonistic toward cats that they go to gargantuan lengths in order to deter their owners from securing life-saving veterinary treatment for for them. (See Cat Defender post of February 15, 2014 entitled "Indefatigable Young Alaskan Woman Overcomes a Lack of Money, Jailing by the Police, and a Series of Avalanches in Order to Save Ninja's Life.")

Even on those rare occasions when American police officers can be prevailed upon to come to the aid of cats and kittens in extremis it is almost always for reasons totally unrelated to their safety and well-being. For instance, when officers Mark Hauenstein and Robert Barrett of the Columbus Division of Police interceded in order to save the life of a four-month-old gray and black kitten subsequently named J.R. that had been left stranded on the median of Ohio State Road 315 near Henderson Road on April 1st it was only due to concerns that his presence might precipitate an accident.

"If an animal ends up on a freeway, it's never a good thing, and it doesn't end well," Barrett later told The Columbus Dispatch on April 7th. (See "Cops Knew They Had to Help Kitten on Route 315.") "Some good-hearted Samaritans could have put themselves at risk trying to rescue it."

While it is undeniable that many individuals have been injured while rescuing cats and other animals left stranded in traffic, that is neither their fault nor that of the cats; rather, the blame lies squarely upon the shoulders of the police for failing to rigorously maintain both order and safety on all public thoroughfares. (See Cat Defender post of August 10, 2009 entitled "Georgia Woman Is Struck and Nearly Killed by a Motorist while Attempting to Rescue Kittens Dumped in the Middle of a Busy Road.")

J.R. was treated afterwards at Ohio State University's veterinary hospital for unspecified head injuries and a severe case of road rash before being fobbed off onto the Capital Area Humane Society in Hilliard, twenty-two kilometers outside of Columbus. Although he was wearing a collar, no one immediately came forward to reclaim him.

Back on May 3rd, Newport Beach police officer Dallas Lopez was credited with saving the life of an eleven-year-old orange cat named Piper from the jaws of ravenous coyote. All he did, however, was to flash his Christmas lights which startled the predator into dropping its prey and hightailing it elsewhere.

In all probability, Lopez was only indulging in crass voyeurism and saving Piper's life was the last thing on his mind. Nevertheless, he and fellow officer Travis Cooks are to be commended for transporting Piper to the Central Orange County Emergency Animal Hospital in Newport Beach.

Anthony Raspa

He later was treated for a broken jaw, several fractured ribs, a punctured abdominal cavity, and internal bleeding at the AAA Animal Hospital in Huntington Beach. At last word he had been reunited with owner Kelsey Whitmer and was expected to live despite his massive injuries. (See KCAL-TV of Los Angeles, May 6, 20155, "Cat Escapes Death a Second Time When Police Officer Saves Him from Coyote.")

Although in the aftermath of her cat's close encounter with death Whitmer was quick to profess her abiding love for him to the high heavens, her irresponsible guardianship of him tells an entirely different story. Mainly, since coyotes are known to routinely roam through many communities in southern California she should be publicly dipped in hot oil for allowing Piper to stay out all night by his lonesome under such perilous conditions.

For example on the evening of November 15, 2007, a ten-year-old black cat named Cosmo was spared a sure and certain death in Thousand Oaks, one-hundred-thirty-two kilometers to the north of Newport Beach, when Jennifer Foster intervened in order to save him from the jaws of another coyote.

Even as things eventually turned out, he sustained puncture wounds to both his neck and lungs and his veterinary bill cost his owners, Jackie York and Bob Gerace, $5,000. (See Cat Defender post of December 4, 2007 entitled "Grieving Widow Risks Her Life in Order to Save Cosmo from the Jaws of a Hungry Coyote in Thousand Oaks.")

Not all cops hate cats but at the same time they do almost nothing in order to protect the lives of even those that they care for, let alone to enforce the animal cruelty statutes. (See Cat Defender posts of March 18, 2009 and May 29, 2007 entitled, respectively, "Eco, Who for Years Was a Mainstay at a Small Massachusetts Police Department, Is Run Down and Killed by a Motorist" and "Corporal Cuffs, Beloved Station House Mascot, Is Abducted Right Under Cops' Noses.")

Just as the outrageous lies of many a cat-hater have led to the on-the-spot liquidations of innumerable cats, any dog that so much as barks at a cop is placing its life in mortal danger. (See Cat Defender posts of July 18, 2012 and September 7, 2012 entitled, respectively, "The Bloodthirsty and Lawless Harrisonburg Police Follow Up Their Bludgeoning to Death of an Injured Cat by Gunning Down a Collie Named Sadie" and "Peripatetic Helvin Rides to the Rescue of Harrisonburg Police Sergeant Russell Metcalf and in Doing So Puts the Judicial Stamp of Approval on His Gunning Down of Sadie," plus the Daily News Record of Harrisonburg, January 10, 2013, "Ex-City Officer Fined.")

All of that is in addition to the large number of police dogs that die in either the line of duty or as the result of cancers contracted while being deployed as cadaver dogs at Ground Zero and elsewhere. Others fall victim to the ravages of secondhand smoke as the result of being irresponsibly cooped up all day inside squad cars with officers who insist upon polluting the very air that they have no choice but to breathe.

In addition to New York City's simply abhorrent naked exploitation and abuse of carriage horses, it also exposes the trusty steeds who serve in its antiquated mounted patrols to all sorts of dangers. For example on April 22nd, a black horse named Pompey II ridden by Luis Ramos was bitten in the chest and on the leg by a pit bull in the East New York section of Brooklyn.

Ramos' fellow officer, Laurene Bove, galloped to the scene aboard Limerick and was able to chase the dog into a nearby yard. Pompey II later was treated for cuts and punctures and was expected to make a full recovery. (See the print edition of the New York Daily News, April 23, 2015, "Horse Survives the 'Pits'.")

The law enforcement community's exploitation of both dogs and horses exposes it as not only still living in the Dark Ages but to be lazy and cowardly as well. That is because it is precisely man who has created and knowingly continues to perpetuate the myriad of ills that plague modern societies and as such it is his responsibility, not that of the animal kingdom, to remedy them.

Not all is lost however in that some jurisdictions, such as Milford, Connecticut, and the remote Japanese island of Iriomote, are fighting back by erecting Cat Crossing signs. (See Cat Defender posts of January 26, 2007 and November 27, 2006 entitled, respectively, "Cat Activists Succeed in Getting Connecticut Town to Erect a Cat Crossing Sign" and "After Surviving on Its Own for at Least Two Million Years, Rare Japanese Wildcat Faces Its Toughest Battle Yet.")

Several residential communities in both Angleterre and Deutschland have successfully agitated for reduced speed limits as a way of better protecting their cats and other animals. Cats nevertheless remain second-class citizens under the former's Road Traffic Act of 1988 which exempts them, but not dogs, sheep, cows, and horses, from the list of animals that motorists are required to report to the authorities after striking.

Underpasses also have been constructed in California and elsewhere in order to protect wildlife from the evil designs of motorists. Roadside memorials erected by aggrieved cat owners are, unfortunately, still illegal in certain locales. (See Cat Defender post of October 9, 2010 entitled "Feline Traffic Fatalities Are Unworthy of Commemoration According to a Möhnesee Bureaucrat Who Orders the Destruction of a Roadside Memorial to Jule.")

Although all of those measures are steps in the right direction, none of them go nearly far enough in order to make any real difference. The best and most humane solution would be to enact and stringently enforce laws that make it illegal for motorists to harm any animal. Since that quite obviously is not about to happen, one alternative would be to erect fences and walls around all busy thoroughfares so as to foreclose the possibility of animals gaining access to them.

It is pretty much an impossible task, however, to even begin to convince both the elites and the hoi polloi that the lives of animals are worth protecting when it is strictly verboten, at least in the United States, to even speak up on their behalves. That is what Leslie Anderson, a law clerk for Judge Travis Francis in New Brunswick, New Jersey, recently found out to her detriment when she dared to so much as express sympathy for the family of a deer struck down by twenty-four-year-old New Jersey State Trooper Anthony Raspa and his partner, twenty-nine-year-old Gene Hong, shortly before 1 a.m. on May 30th on I-195 in Upper Freehold Township in Monmouth County.

After striking the deer, the troopers' Ford Crown Victoria careened off the right-hand side of the road and crashed into a tree. Raspa later was pronounced dead at CentraState Hospital in Freehold while Hong was treated for lacerations and a neck injury at Robert Wood Johnson Hospital in Hamilton. (See The New York Times, May 30, 2015, "New Jersey State Trooper Killed after Patrol Car Hits Deer" and NJ.com, June 4, 2015, "Thousands Say Goodbye to State Trooper Anthony Raspa.")

"Not that sad, and certainly not tragic. (The) troopers were probably traveling at a dangerously high speed as per usual," Anderson wrote shortly thereafter on the Facebook page of News-12 of Edison. (See the Daily Mail, June 3, 2015, "'Not That Sad, and Certainly Not Tragic': New Jersey Law Clerk Suspended after Comments Made Following Trooper's Death Aged Twenty-Four in Car Crash.") "Totally preventable. At least they didn't take any of the citizens they were sworn to serve and protect with them."

She was more than justified in making those comments in that New Jersey State troopers have been involved in not only several high-profile traffic fatalities but of even organizing drag races down the Garden State Parkway. In addition to all of that, their totally reprehensible and unlawful conduct has been augmented by that of local cops from both the Garden State and neighboring New York who have been responsible for numerous traffic mishaps where they have killed not only themselves but others as well after, quite often, boozing away the small hours in jiggle joints.

It was however the compassion that Anderson dared to express for the deer that doomed her. "Nonetheless, I agree that it is sad and heart-wrenching for the family members left to suffer the consequences of the trooper's recklessness, especially for the deer family who lost a mommy or daddy or baby deer," she added according to the account in the Daily Mail.

Since no good deed ever goes unpunished, especially in totally lawless and immoral America, the retribution came swift and furious. "My impression is that this person has a hatred for us and what we do," Chris Burgos, president of the State Troopers Fraternal Association, blathered to the Daily Mail. "If she says they (the comments) were made in a private capacity on Facebook that doesn't cut it anymore, especially from someone entrusted to work for the law. This brings up ethical and conduct issues."

Leslie Anderson

The bully then went on to declare that he would not be satisfied with anything less than Anderson's pretty blond scalp hanging from the rearview mirror of his official car. "I will follow this through because it's not enough," he added. "I won't let this happen on my watch."

The lynch mob formed by Burgos was quickly buttressed by the addition of Patrick Colligan, president of the New Jersey State Policemen's Benevolent Association, who dashed off an angry letter to Francis wherein he labeled Anderson's remarks as being "beyond reprehensible" and as a "shock to the moral conscience." (See the Cliffview Pilot, June 3, 2015, "New Jersey State Police Benevolent Association President Insists Law Clerk Be Held Accountable for 'Reprehensible' Comments about State Trooper's Death.")

He did not stop there, however, but went on to avail himself of the golden opportunity presented to him in order to rewrite the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States in order to suit his own interests. He began his sortie into reducing the right to free speech to nothingness by, quite calculatingly, professing his steadfastness to "never waver in defending it."

No sooner had those lofty sentiments escaped from his pie hole than he did an abrupt about-face by declaring that the protections afforded by that amendment do not apply to governmental employees. "This was not an ordinary citizen with an absolute right to freedom of speech," he lectured Francis. "This is a well-educated graduate of law school that should have understood and respected the limitations of her position and the trust our citizens must have in the judiciary."

C'est-à-dire, if an individual works in government, no matter how corrupt and tyrannical it may be, she must not only keep her trap closed tighter than a virgin's crack but also go along with and cover up the crimes perpetrated by her colleagues. His comments also make it abundantly clear that the only value he sees in a college education is the all-too-common tendency of such institutionalized brainwashing to churn out morally-numb, unthinking apologists for the establishment.

Much more importantly, Colligan is either an inveterate liar, a complete moron, or likely both when it comes to his ludicrous interpretation of the First Amendment. That amendment clearly states that "Congress shall make no law...abridging freedom of speech" and since its ratification in 1791 the United States Supreme Court has extended its strictures to the states through their selective incorporation into the due process clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Ergo, its protections apply equally against New Jersey just as they do against the federal government in Washington.

Every bit as importantly, the amendment does not make, as Colligan claims, a distinction between the utterances of private and public employees. It accordingly is beyond dispute that Anderson's comments were constitutionally protected.

Old lamebrained and spineless Francis fell hook, line, and sinker for Colligan's outrageous lies however when he upgraded his earlier two-week suspension of Anderson and fired her outright. (See News-12, June 3, 2015, "Law Clerk Resigns Following Controversial Online Comments.")

In doing so he vividly demonstrated that as far as public employment in New Jersey is concerned anyone with so much as an ounce of honesty, integrity, compassion for animals, and half a mind of her own need not apply. Rather, the state's highly-paid sinecures are reserved as the private fiefdoms of fops, sycophants, criminals and, above all, animal killers.

None of that in any way alters he fact that instead of losing her job and being pilloried by both the capitalist media and the public alike, Anderson richly deserves a medal for not only standing up for deer and other animals but also the right of pedestrians and private motorists to safely navigate the roads in New Jersey without the fear of being struck down and killed by speeding, drunken cops. Like Edward Snowden and Bradley Manning before her, she is not only a very courageous individual but a hero as well.

Unfortunately, it is not going to be easy for her to resurrect her law career, especially in a state as notoriously corrupt and unforgiving as New Jersey. (See Cat Defender posts of September 22, 2008 and April 26, 2014 entitled, respectively, "New Jersey at Long Last Has at Least One Honest Public Servant and Her Name Is Caloo from Carlstadt" and "The Opportunistic Old Hacks Who Run the Show in New Jersey Are All Set to Unjustly Condemn Rocky to a Lifetime Behind Bars for, Basically, Daring to So Much as Breathe.")

The good news is that there is a whole other world waiting for someone like her with compassion, courage, and honesty outside of both the law and the Garden State. If she should choose to remain in the United States she needs to be always mindful, however, that even though Americans may profess to fervently believe in the rule of law, equality, democracy, morality, free speech, free press, and all the other correct and noble things that this world has to offer, deep down in their heart of hearts they abhor all of those ideals and, as she has just recently discovered, woe be it to anyone who dares to so much as even attempt to avail herself of any of those rights and privileges.

Just how ingrained and pervasive this loathing of all things true and just has become is nowhere better illustrated than in the petit fait that, as far as it could be determined, neither a solitary free speech advocacy group nor an animal rights organization has so far been able to muster the prerequisite gumption in order to come to Anderson's defense. There used to be a time in this country when even those individuals and groups that vehemently disagreed with various viewpoints nevertheless could be counted upon to stand up for the First Amendment but those days, sadly, have gone the way of the horse and buggy.

"For the average American, freedom of speech is simply the freedom to repeat what everyone else is saying and no more," Gore Vidal once pointed out. It is even doubtful that most of them are any longer capable of differentiating between the self-serving hogwash that they are fed on a daily basis by the establishment and the truth.

Going after Anderson and her job also has excused the New Jersey State Police from explaining exactly what happened on I-195 on that fateful morning last month. First of all, they have yet to publicly disclose either the extent of Raspa's injuries or what precisely killed him. Although press reports claim that he was at the wheel, his mortal injuries coupled with Hong's rather minor scrapes and bruises would be more consistent with him having been in the passenger's seat.

Secondly, it has not been confirmed if the troopers were on official police business or merely horsing around at the time of the accident. Thirdly, it is not known either how fast they were traveling or if drugs and alcohol were involved.

Fourthly, it has not been revealed if Raspa either was texting or gassing on his mobile phone. It is not even known if he was wearing a seat belt which is mandatory under New Jersey state law.

Most glaring of all, no one has seen fit to comment upon just how rare it is for a private citizen, let alone a seasoned trooper, to be killed while running down a deer. If he were driving, Raspa had the protection of his vehicle, the steering wheel and, perhaps, his seat belt. His cruiser's braking system and the deer also would have cushioned the impact with the tree.

It accordingly is difficult to comprehend how that a sober and alert officer who was following the posted speed limit could have killed himself by hitting a deer. Those are just a few of the questions that concerned citizens should be demanding of the state police but that is not about to happen anymore than they are about to insist that they respect the laws of the road and operate their vehicles in a safe and responsible manner.

"We are naturally held to a higher standard and we both understand and respect the restrictions imposed on us," Colligan vacuously gassed to his buddy Francis in the letter cited supra. His and Burgos' actions however point to the inescapable conclusion that what they and their fellow officers truly believe is that they are above not only the law and all morality but even public criticism as well.

Finally, the public demonization of Anderson and her outrageous firing by Francis are eclipsed only by the glaring omission of any concern voiced by either the capitalist media or the political establishment for the fate of the deer so callously attacked by Raspa. If it did not die on the spot, it likely has been crippled for life.

So long as such a perverted morality continues to hold sway, cats like Harry, the deer run down by Raspa, and all other animals stand considerably less than a snowball's chance in Hell of surviving. The only thing that seemingly matters anymore is that the likes of the Derbyshire Police, the New Jersey State Police, and private citizens alike be allowed to continue to get their cheap thrills by racing their souped-up jalopies down the streets and roads irrespective of how many animals and pedestrians that they kill and maim in the process.

Photos: Tony Hunt (Harry), Derby Telegraph (Hunt), KCAL-TV (Piper), New York City (Pompey II), New Jersey State Police (Raspa), and LinkedIn (Anderson).

Thursday, May 28, 2015

Abandoned, Homeless on the Street, Expelled by the Ingrates at Manchester International Airport, and Finally Whacked by Her Last Guardian, So Ran the Course of Ollie's Sad and Turbulent Life

Ollie

"Hello all my wonderful friends. Sadly I have to tell you that I gained my 'wings' yesterday and I will be carrying out my security patrols and checking for squirrels over the Rainbow Bridge."
-- Ollie's terse obituary as it was announced May 6th on Facebook

The cat world was robbed of one of its brightest and most elegant stars on May 5th when Ollie, the former world famous resident feline of Manchester International Airport (MIA) in Ringway, was deliberately killed off by an unidentified veterinarian acting upon the orders of her present-day guardian. Although her age has not been publicly disclosed, the lovely yellow and white little girl must have been at least ten years old considering that she likely was at least two years old when she first strolled into MIA back in 2007.

In the end it really does not make any difference how old she was in that she had an inalienable right to have lived out her life to the bitter end and then, and only then, to have died a natural death. The precipitate actions of her guardian and the unscrupulous old sawbones who whacked her can therefore only be classified as cold-blooded, premeditated murder!

The news of Ollie's premature demise was announced on the world wide web by an insurance manager identified only by her first name as Jennifer from Northenden, 8.85 kilometers north of Ringway and 8.4 kilometers south of Manchester City, who had served as her caretaker for the past four years. "Hello all my wonderful friends," she, speaking for Ollie, began the May 6th posting on Olly (sic) the Airport Cat's Facebook page. "Sadly I have to tell you that I gained my 'wings' yesterday and I will be carrying out my security patrols and checking for squirrels over the Rainbow Bridge."

As is the case with her age, it is far from clear exactly what had been ailing Ollie. "The vet and my human have been doing their best to help me fight off a pneumonia-type infection over the past few weeks, but I just wasn't strong enough to beat it," the Facebook posting goes on to claim.

Press reports, on the other hand, state only that she had been battling a lung infection for "days." Although these types of infections can vary greatly in terms of severity, the appellations pneumonia, lung infections, and upper respiratory infections (URIs) are, broadly speaking, pretty much interchangeable, highfalutin jargon used to define head and chest colds.

Regardless of whatever they are called, that in no way alters the salient fact that all of them are are every bit as much treatable sicknesses in cats as they are in humans. Doing so successfully requires time, effort, and money and therein, as Shakespeare would say, lies the rub.

The evidence that Jennifer and her designated assassin were unwilling to make that commitment to Ollie is too overwhelming to be ignored. For example, the Manchester Evening News reported on May 6th that she had "slipped away at 10 p.m. on Tuesday (May 5th) during one last cuddle from her devoted owner." (See "Tributes Pour In for Olly (sic) the Airport Cat as She Says Last Farewell.")

"Slipped away" is, quite obviously, sugarcoated double talk for the administration of a fatal jab of sodium pentobarbital. Also, since absolutely no one except her executioner could have accurately predicted when she was going to die, the last cuddle that Jennifer gave Ollie was, in reality, the kiss of death.

"Murmurings of love on his lips, and murder in his damn black heart," is how Travis McGee once characterized serial killer Evan Lawrence's method of luring unsuspecting women into his web of intrigue in John D. MacDonald's 1982 novel, Cinnamon Sky, and Jennifer doubtlessly practiced the same modus operandi on defenseless Ollie. The mere fact that she may not have been aware of what was being done to her in no way makes Jennifer's crime any the less reprehensible; au contraire, that only serves to compound the offense.

There are additionally considerably less subtle indications that that was indeed the case. The most obvious of which was Jennifer's indulgence in that old, time-worn sottise about "wings" and the "Rainbow Bridge" as a means of obfuscating the foulness of her dirty deed.

In keeping with their absurd belief that the outrageous crimes of a lifetime can be absolved by simply asking their god for forgiveness, Christians likewise fervently believe that snuffing out the life of an innocent cat can be justified on the grounds that she is going to be better off in their make-believe paradise in the sky. Once the full extent of their turpitude, mendaciousness, dishonesty and, above all, total lack of taste is taken into consideration, it becomes abundantly clear just how amazing it is that any cat, animal, and even Mother Earth are still standing.

Ollie Outside Olympic House

Thankfully, there have been others, such as Henry David Thoreau, who have felt differently. "Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve life than destroy it," he once correctly observed.

The press's adamant refusal to disclose Jennifer's full name is another dead giveaway that all was not on the level. Furthermore, any halfway honest individual would have unequivocally stated from the outset whether Ollie had died of natural causes or had been deliberately killed off.

The final bit of evidence revolves around the petit fait that veterinarians are far better known for the large number of cats that they kill, either intentionally or through malpractice, than they are for those whose lives that they either extend or save. In addition to all of those atrocities, they knowingly condemn countless scores of impecunious ones to early graves through their steadfast refusal to treat them.

Even if Ollie had contracted pneumonia, she could have been treated with antibiotics such as Baytril and Amoxicillin as well as the diuretic furosemide. If she was experiencing breathing difficulties, oxygen could have been administered until she was well enough to have resumed breathing on her own.

Inexpensive home remedies such as using a vaporizer, a bulb syringe in order to drain mucus from her nasal passages, and chest percussion, or the rhythmic tapping on the chest in order to loosen accumulated liquid in the lungs ,could have been tried. If she had lost her appetite, she could have been forcibly fed and given intravenous fluids in order to have prevented her from becoming dehydrated.

She also needed to have been maintained in a stress-free environment and prevented from engaging in any strenuous activities. (See "An Introduction to Cat Pneumonia" at www.vetinfo.com.)

Sadly to say but there are not many owners who are willing to go to that expense and bother in order to save the life of a cat. As a result, they gladly fork over thirty pieces of silver to any quack veterinarian willing to do their dirty work for them by whacking their cats.

That is not only precisely what happened to Ollie but also to St. Andrews' world famous resident feline, Hamish McHamish, on September 11th of last year. In both cases, the international fame that they enjoyed proved to be not only insufficient in order to save them from the murderous urges of their owners but even to spark so much as a murmur of protest from their legions of fans around the world who, supposedly, loved them to bits. (See Cat Defender post of October 18, 2014 entitled "Hamish McHamish's Derelict Owner Reenters His Life after Fourteen Years of Abject Neglect Only to Have Him Killed Off after He Contracts a Preeminently Treatable Common Cold.")

Not satisfied with merely getting rid of Ollie, Jennifer could not resist the overpowering temptation to get up on a soapbox and to treat the world to a few familiar strains of the old refrain about how much she loved her cat. "She was such a character," she exclaimed to the Manchester Evening News in the article cited supra. "I'm devastated. I was with her at the end."

That is truly unfortunate because Ollie would have fared far better on her own in that she, just possibly, might have recovered and lived. Even if that had not been the case, dying certainly is easy enough for a cat, or any creature for that matter, to do on its own; no outside interference is either needed or warranted.

Besides, a cat should be allowed to die not only in peace but while still breathing clean, unpolluted air. "Man soll nicht in Kirchen gehn, wenn man reine Luft atmen will," Friedrich Nietzsche counseled in Janseits von Gut und Böse. (Aphorismus dreißig.)

Ollie at Her Food Dish

Christians are such an uncharitable lot, however, that they seldom can be satisfied with merely bedeviling the everyday existences of cats but rather feel compelled to continue their assaults and defamations right up until they are in their graves and, sometimes, even beyond that point. Brainwashed over the millenniums into believing the Jews' blatant lies about the inferiority of all animals, they thus are totally incapable of ever looking upon a cat as anything other than an object of exploitation.

Unwilling to leave bad enough alone, Jennifer had the shameless audacity to go on Ollie's Facebook page May 12th and to solicit donations in her memory for The Animal Sanctuary in Wilmslow, Cheshire, the Society for Abandoned Animals in Stretford, Manchester, and Cats Protection's branch in Stockport, Cheshire. Rather than financially supporting individuals like her and institutions that kill cats for any reason, a far better alternative would be for genuine lovers of the species to save their money in order to one day put it toward prolonging the lives of sick, injured, and elderly cats.

That not only would be a far more fitting way of remembering Ollie but it additionally would save lives in the process. In time it also just might serve as a catalyst for the abolition of the odious practice of whereby owners get rid of unwanted cats by ordering their murders while simultaneously enabling veterinarians to laugh all the way to the bank.

Speaking more generally, it is the epitome of folly for individuals to give money to any animal protection group without first being intimately acquainted with what actually goes on inside their shelters and offices. Although PETA is infamous for stealing cats and dogs from both owners as well as off the street and then summarily executing them, it is far from being the only so-called rescue group that pursues such a perverted agenda.

For example in Atlantic City, New Jersey, the Humane Society of Atlantic County commits the same crimes with impunity. Plus, it goes out of its way in order to support, defend, and assist individuals who sic their dogs on kittens and cats. In spite of all of that, the contributions keep right on rolling in and the criminals remain unpunished instead of being locked up behind bars which is precisely where these cat stealing and murdering cretins belong.

The ways in which even a conscientious owner can fail a cat are almost endless. First and foremost is the mistake of not recognizing cats for the exquisite beings that Leonardo da Vinci knew them to be when he once termed them as "nature's masterpiece."

Secondly, is the failure to spend as much time with them as is humanly possible. They never should be treated as merely superfluous additions to anyone's busy life; rather, they should be the centerpiece of it. "Le temps passé avec un chat n'est jamais perdu," Sidonie Gabrielle Colette once opined.

In addition to those oversights, there is the grievous error of failing to pay sufficient attention to a cat's health until it is too late. Closely associated with that is the terrible mistake of selecting the wrong veterinarian to treat it.

Then there is the problem of failing to protect it from the machinations of Animal Control officers, shelters, motorists, dogs, raccoons, coyotes, and a wide assortment of vile cat-haters. Even though it is extremely difficult for any guardian, no matter how conscientious, to anticipate all the dangers that lurk just around the corner, that in no way makes either the injuries that cats sustain or their premature deaths any easier to bear. Worst of all, there is never any end to the self-recriminations.

As totally unforgivable as all of those mistakes are, they are not in any way even remotely comparable to the deliberate crimes committed against the species by owners like Jennifer who betray their cat's trust by extinguishing its life. In Ollie's case, her tragic and unjust death is all the more lamentable not only due to all the hurdles that she had been forced to surmount during her brief stay upon this earth but also because she meant so much to so many people around the world.

No one seems to know either where she came from or how she spent her first few years. She simply turned up one day unannounced at MIA in early 2007 and nothing has been the same ever since at Old Blighty's third busiest airport.

Ollie Pauses to Grab Some Kip

Although it is entirely conceivable that she could have been born in the wild and simply wandered in on her own, that seems unlikely based upon how quickly she made friends with the staffers at the airport's administrative office located in Olympic House between Terminal One and Terminal Three.

A far more plausible explanation is that she at one time had a home but later was either dumped at the facility or became lost in transit. Airlines lose cats all the time but lie about both the number and what later becomes of them.

The one known glaring exception to that rule is John F. Kennedy Airport in Queens, New York, which not only shouts its inveterate hatred of the species from the rooftops but also has its resident felines hounded down like convicted felons on the lam and killed. (See Cat Defender post of November 5, 2007 entitled "Port Authority Gives JFK's Long-Term Resident Felines the Boot and Rescue Groups Are Too Impotent to Save Them.")

Apparently her former guardian never made any attempt to reclaim her even after she had shot to international acclaim later in 2007. It is not even known how long that she was on her own but if her badly mangled left ear and scruffy-looking fur are any indication her days spent on the street where anything but hospitable.

Staffers at Olympic House immediately fell in love with her and named her in honor of the building in which they toil away their lives. They furthermore took it upon themselves to build her a sleeping box which they then appendaged to the side of the building.

They, along with vendors and others who work at the sprawling facility, fed and watered her as well as provided her with an unspecified level of veterinary care. "Air crews give him (sic) a feed early in the morning and staff from the airport and its service partners look after him (sic) throughout the day," Bob Molloy, a receptionist at Olympic House, explained in 2007. "He's (sic) a big talking point around here. Everybody likes him (sic)."

Retailer Jane Barber brought her biscuits on a regular basis and an unidentified delivery man supplied her with sandwiches. Some staffers even cared so much about her that they came in on their days off in order to make sure that she had enough to eat and drink.

It was not long before her newfound fame had spread far and beyond MIA and that was vouched for by the food parcels that started arriving from Paris, New York, Chicago, and elsewhere. A Facebook page was established in her honor and it quickly attracted fifteen-hundred followers.

"He's (sic) a very special cat and a lucky one, too," Molloy's co-worker, Hazel Williams, said back in those halcyon days. (See Cat Defender post of November 28, 2007 entitled "Lovable Ollie Finds a Home at Manchester International Airport After Workers and Vendors Come to His (sic) Aid.")

Ollie's caretakers at Olympic House received quite a jolt a year later when a routine visit to a veterinarian unexpectedly revealed that their beloved resident feline was actually a female. "We were completely shocked when we found out and just couldn't believe it," Molloy said at that time. "We've heard all the jokes from staff and some of them say we shouldn't be surprised as she's always been a bit of a diva."

Ollie and Bob Molloy Look Over Some Postcards Sent to Her

The staff at Olympic House attempted to correct their original faux pas by changing her name to Olivia but by then it was way too late and she would forever be known as Ollie, irrespective of the orthography. "The funniest thing is we actually think her character has altered since we found out," Molloy surmised. "She's much more loving and seems to be showing her maternal side more."

While that most likely existed only in his head, Ollie's ever-growing popularity certainly was undeniable in that the food and Christmas presents continued to pour in at regular intervals. "Every day we get people coming in to leave gifts for Olivia," Williams disclosed. "The other week someone had been fishing and brought in a whole mackerel; they had even cooked it for her."

At that high point in her once turbulent life it sure looked like that the good times were going to last forever. "It's incredible how well loved she is...." Williams added. (See Cat Defender post of November 8, 2009 entitled "Oops! Ollie Belatedly Gives Up a Closely Guarded Secret Much to the Chagrin of the Employees of Manchester International.")

Regrettably, nothing good ever last for very long in this miserable old world and if that holds true for men it is doubly true for cats. The dark clouds rolled in later that same year when the suits at Olympic House decided to flex their muscles by giving Ollie the bum's rush.

Hundreds of admirers from as far away as New Zealand and Kuwait rallied to her side by signing an online petition that demanded that the stuffed shirts rescind their eviction order. Caught off guard by all the bad publicity that they had brought down upon their fat heads, not to mention the airport itself, they relented and reluctantly decided to allow Ollie to remain.

That, however, was merely a tactical maneuver designed to allow public opposition to run its course. Much more importantly, it allowed the devious, cat-hating executives time in order to put their diseased gourds together and to come up with a foolproof stratagem that eventually would get rid of Ollie once and for all time.

After all, the elites can always be counted upon to, sooner or later, put the screws to one and all and that is precisely what those at Olympic House ended up doing to Ollie. For them, doing evil is not only profitable but fun as well and to this very day they likely are still patting each other on the back and laughing off their fat, rotten asses at their own cleverness.

Every bit as underhanded and devious as Old Nick himself, the high-muck-a-mucks at MIA decided that the best way to get rid of Ollie would be to renovate the reception area at Olympic House. "Olly's (sic) been here for several years and everyone enjoys having her around," an unidentified spokesman for the airport conceded to the Manchester Evening News on July 26, 2011 in a carefully choreographed prelude to lowering the boom on her. (See "Claws Come Out as Manchester Airport Chiefs Show Exit Door to Olly (sic) the Cat.") "But sadly, we'll have to move her soon because we're about to start major building work on the lower floors of Olympic House and the road outside (is) getting busier for summer. It's dangerous for Olly (sic) cat to remain."

While there cannot be any denying that a cat does not belong anywhere near a busy road, it is dishonest for the suits to pretend that it took them four years to arrive at that perfectly obvious conclusion. Besides, there was not any valid reason why staffers at Olympic House could not have confined her to a safe area of the building until the work was completed.

For example, when a perfectly adorable four-month-old black, brown, and white female with green eyes named Caloo turned up at Borough Hall in tiny Carlstadt, New Jersey, in August of 2008 Borough Administrator Jane Fontana not only saved her from the deadly clutches of Animal Control but later on September 4th the Borough Council voted unanimously to adopt her as "The Carlstadt Cat." Afterwards, she would divide her days between Fontana's office and roaming Council and caucus chambers; weekends were spent at Fontana's house.

Ollie Alongside One of the Many Christmas Presents Sent to Her

"It's very nice having her in the office because she comes and sits on the desk," Fontana related. "She loves to chase the mouse on the computer screen and watches paper being printed." (See Cat Defender post of September 22, 2008 entitled "New Jersey at Long Last Has at Least One Honest Public Servant and Her Name Is Caloo from Carlstadt.")

MIA accordingly did not have even a halfway legitimate excuse for uprooting Ollie from the only home that she had known in recent memory. The suits simply wanted rid of her and that is perfectly clear from the extraordinary lengths that they went to in order to realize that objective.

In addition to rejecting out of hand any and all temporary accommodations that would have allowed her to have remained at Olympic House, the executives vetoed a plan to move her to Runway Visitor Park. Since that is such a rather large area that features, inter alia, tours of airplanes, shops, restaurants, a picnic area, and conference rooms, it is difficult to say if it would have been a good fit for Ollie. That would have depended not only upon just how busy the area is but also on where she would have made her home.

Once the option of relocating her elsewhere at MIA was disposed of that left her complete removal from the premises as the only option still on the table. In other to facilitate matters, the suits then turned to the always reliable RSPCA and another unidentified animal sanctuary in order to not only remove Ollie but to provide the political backing for their shenanigans.

"The advise from several cat charities is to permanently relocate Olly (sic) to a home where she won't be disturbed again by airport development so we're working with the team that cares for her to find her a safe place to live," the airport's designated mouthpiece blowed long and hard to the Manchester Evening News in the July 26, 2011 article cited supra.

No sooner said than done, Ollie was spirited out of MIA under the cover of darkness in late July of 2011. "They moved her during the night when no one was about," a Facebook posting later disclosed.

There can be little doubt that the RSPCA and its cohorts were handsomely rewarded by the suits for helping them get rid of Ollie. That is because it is difficult to imagine that any of the grasping frauds who comprise ninety-nine per cent of the animal protection movement ever would so much as tap their gnarled toes and ingrown, yellowish toenails to any tune other than that of the jingle-jangle of silver being dropped into their sticky palms.

Most of them are such horrible, sidewinding mercenaries that they do not have any regard for any cat or, for that matter, anyone else as well. Their mandate consists almost exclusively of liquidating cats in return for a pocketful of cash.

Every bit as revolting, apparently neither Molloy, Williams, Barber, nor any of Ollie's caretakers at Olympic House lifted so much as a lousy finger in order to save her and her home. Like fair weather friends, they were only too willing to throw her underneath the bus once her chips were down.

"We are very sorry to hear the news that Olly (sic) has died," is how a spokesman for the airport began his eulogy of her according to the May 6th edition of the Manchester Evening News cited supra. "She built up quite a loyal following and fan base during her time at the airport. We hope she enjoyed her last few years away from the airport."

Ollie on the Outside Looking In at Olympic House

From the tenor of those outrageously insincere sentiments it is quite obvious that the suits at Olympic House never have had so much as a clue as to either Ollie's intrinsic worth or her value to the airport itself. She was the best thing to ever happen to MIA but the executives were, and remain to this very day, too bloody stupid to have realized it.

When she arrived they caught lightning in a bottle but they blew it and now she is gone forever. They still have their noisy, dirty old airplanes to pollute the air and bushels of shekels in order to warm the cockles of their warped and diseased hearts but theirs has been a Faustian bargain and MIA is every bit as soulless today as it was before Ollie's arrival.

Also conspicuously absent from all the obsequies posted online has been so much as a peep out of Molloy. Although in the past he has been singled out for assisting travelers in distress, he apparently drew the line when it came to sticking up for Ollie. (See the Manchester Evening News, October 8, 2010, "Unsung Airport Hero Bob Always Goes the Extra Mile to Help Passengers.")

The last eighteen months or so that Ollie spent at MIA were not all gloom and doom, however. For instance, in early 2010 she started receiving postcards from a secret admirer. "Just been visiting your relations here in Egypt," one of them that was addressed simply to "Ginger Cat" read. "The weather is lovely and sunny. I'm sure you wish you were here! Hope you can stay warm in all the snow."

In early January of 2011, she received a belated Christmas card that was postmarked in Venice. "They have definitely raised a few smiles," an airport spokesman told London's Metro on January 14, 2011. (See "Stray Cat Bombarded by Postcards from Admirer.")

As far as it is known, the airport never was able to determine who it was that was writing to Ollie. "It's a bit of a mystery as to who has been sending the postcards to Olly (sic)," the spokesman added to Metro. "We suspect it could be someone who has visited one of the companies with an office in Olympic House, although with nineteen-million passengers and about twenty-thousand people working on site, I doubt we'll ever find out."

It has not been disclosed whether the cards continued to arrive after she was evicted and, if so, what was done with them. Hopefully, they have been preserved because they certainly would make splendid additions should anyone either at or outside of MIA ever decide to honor her with a fitting public memorial.

Although she was long gone from MIA by then, British Midland International (Bmibaby) named one of its Boeing 737's as the Olly (sic) Cat Baby in late 2011. As far as it is known, that made Ollie the only cat in history to have had an airplane named in her honor.

Just like everything else in this world, that honor also proved to be fleeting because on September 9, 2012 Bmibaby went out of business. It therefore is highly doubtful that the Olly (sic) Cat Baby can still be seen either in the skies or taxiing down runways throughout England and Europe.

All the while that was occurring Ollie was kept completely in the dark. Exiled to Northenden, she spent her final four years living in obscurity.


The Boeing 737 Named in Ollie's Honor

The only news of what her life must have been like following her cruel and unjust banishment from MIA comes courtesy of a self-laudatory October 2011 notice posted by Jennifer on Facebook. "To all my friends, do not fear I am very well, living a life of luxury and undertaking some select security cat duties," the brief entry declares. "Have taken to indoor living like a duck to water. Enjoying sleeping on knees, sofas, chairs and the bed. Totally spoiled and I am loving it."

Even after she had so criminally initialed Ollie's death warrant, Jennifer was still parroting the same old familiar line. "I'm very privileged and honored to have been chosen to look after (her)," she eulogized Ollie to the Manchester Evening News on May 6th. "She made my home a brighter place."

There are other indications, however, that Ollie's post-MIA life was not all that rosy. "She loved her cuddles and she liked waking me up at silly times in the morning in line with the buses that used to bring staff into the airport for their shifts," Jennifer let slip to the Manchester Evening News on May 6th. "She was wired to get up for them because she'd get so many cuddles."

While it admittedly is a dicey proposition to gauge with any degree of accuracy exactly what any given cat is thinking and feeling, it nevertheless is pretty safe to assume that a highly sociable and loving one like Ollie who had become accustomed to being the center of attention at Olympic House would sorely miss all the loving and presents that were so generously lavished upon her. She doubtlessly also still craved the freedom that had been so cruelly taken away from her.

Along those same lines it would be interesting to know who exactly it was that attended to her at her new home. It quite obviously was not Jennifer in that, as a busy insurance manager, she was so seldom home. Even after Ollie was gone, she was willing to devote only a few minutes of her valuable time to composing her online obituary.

There possibly could have been other members of the household who looked after her physical and emotional needs when Jennifer was off chasing shekels but even that is unknown. It accordingly is just as likely that she was left home alone all throughout the day to walk the floors and to stare at the four walls.

Furthermore, it seems highly improbable that an ambitious businesswoman like Jennifer would have taken all that kindly to being awakened in the small hours by a lonesome and heartbroken cat that was dying for attention. Consequently, all that Ollie likely received from her was to be either ignored or scolded.

The proper care of a cat involves considerably more than merely putting a roof over its head and bowl of kibble under its nose. Its emotional needs, natural instincts, and the habits formed over the course of a lifetime must also be addressed.

While it is not known what, if any, measures Jennifer undertook in order to satisfy those needs in Ollie, there can be little doubt that the sawed-off slugs who run the show at Olympic House along with the moral retards at the RSPCA looked upon and treated her as if she were nothing more than an old piece of furniture to be bandied about at their pleasure. At no time did any of them ever see her as a sentient being endowed with rights and needs that not only should have respected but, more importantly, fulfilled.

Instead, they were too busy looking down their long, dirty schnozes at her and exhausting their devious gourds in order to come up with new ways of mistreating her. All of that culminated in Jennifer's unwillingness to provide her with both the time and treatment that she so desperately needed for her strength to return so that she could get back on her feet and, most importantly, go on living.

Ollie as She Will Be Remembered

"It's nice to know she was loved as much as that," she declared to the Manchester Evening News on May 6th in response to the outpouring of condolences posted online. Sometimes loves is not enough and this certainly was one of those occasions.

"I care not for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it," Abraham Lincoln once observed. The same all-too-often is true of love and in Ollie's case the affection that was showered on her by Jennifer, Olympic House, and her thousands of admirers from afar was most definitely the wrong kind.

It has not been publicly disclosed what was done with her remains and that makes it more than likely that they either were burned or thrown out with the trash. Depriving her of a proper burial and a tombstone therefore makes it all the easier for everyone concerned to quickly forget that she ever graced the face of the earth.

It also is highly unlikely that the suits at Olympic House are planning to provide her with either a memorial service or so much as a plaque. That should not dissuade, however, any of the dozens of airlines that serve MIA from naming another plane after her.

Once all the posers and liars have been exposed there simply is not any way left in order to hide the ugly and shameful truth that, for most of her existence, Ollie was hideously abused and nakedly exploited. For starters, she was abandoned twice, once by her original owner and then by the suits at Olympic House.

Secondly, in between those abandonments she was forced to forge a mean existence on the street. Thirdly, once she became ill her new guardian did not hesitate to have her killed off instead of providing her with the top-notch veterinary care that she so desperately needed and so richly deserved.

If morality, a healthy respect for the sanctity of all feline life, and justice counted for anything in this world she would still be alive today and gracing the corridors and outside areas of Olympic House. That is not to be, however, because everyone who either walked in or out of her life over the years only exploited her for their own selfish ends and amusement.

The utterly reprehensible treatment doled out to Ollie also serves to demonstrate that genuine lovers of the species are about as rare as hens' teeth. The suits at MIA, Jennifer, the RSPCA, and the legions of fans who supposedly were devoted to her can lie their ugly little faces off until the cows come home but some things never change in this world and one of them is that actions always have and always will speak infinitely louder than the self-serving drivel mouthed by impostors. As Ollie's life and times have more than amply demonstrated, the evils inflicted upon cats by their sworn enemies pale in comparison with those perpetrated by the individuals and groups who claim to love them the most.

Looking back over the course of Ollie’s all-too-brief existence it is heartbreaking to think of what her life could have been like if just one person had truly cared anything about her. There is first and foremost the happiness that she could have experienced as well as that which she surely would have brought to others.

Secondly, there are all the things that she might have accomplished and the places that she might have visited. She always was a tremendous ambassador for her species and provided with the right opportunities there is no telling what she could have accomplished of behalf of not only those cats who are already here but also for those that are coming.

No one really cared, however, and for her it all had to end so terribly premature with a deadly jab of sodium pentobarbital in some quack’s surgery. Even now that she is gone nobody seems to care that she was murdered or to be even remotely cognizant of the sheer enormity of what has been lost…and lost forever.

Photos: Manchester Evening News (Ollie) and Facebook (Olly (sic) Cat Baby).