Lewis the Cat, from Cell Block D

Several different people have sent me the link to the various articles about Lewis the Cat, who is now, arguably, the most famous Connecticutian (Connecticuter?) since Frederick Law Olmsted, father of landscape architecture. There was a whole thread about Lewis in the Connecticut Post. He even has a MySpace profile with over 4,000 friends.

In a nutshell, Lewis is a Bad Cat. He scratches, he bites, he mauls. Now, after a lenghty trial, he's going to be wearing an orange jumpsuit and little cat-manacles (catacles?).

Some of my friends seem to assume that just because I'm a card-carrying Cat Fancier, I'm de facto pro-Lewis. Au contraire. Yes, I'm a crazy cat-lover. But I am decidedly NOT a lover of crazy cats (that would be a "crazy-cat lover" - it's all about the hyphen ...).

The reason has much to do with a cat named Eugene, a Lewis doppelganger owned by Paul's former roommate. Eugene was also a pretty black & white "tuxedo cat." The first time I went to Paul's former apartment, I saw Eugene, who, at first glance, was adorable. So naturally, I ran over to pet him.

"I wouldn't do that," said Paul.

"Don't be silly," I say. "Cats love me. They can tell I'm a cat person."

"No, really. He scratches. And bites."

"Maybe it's just you. Maybe he was abused by a man when he was a kitten."

"Who are these people who abuse kittens, for crap's sake?" Paul asked. "Where do they get the time? Personally, I've had to cut back."

I approach Eugene. He purrs. "SEE?" I retort, as the cat begins to rub up against my leg. (Paul says that I'm not happy unless I get to say "seeeeee?" at least once a day, but that is another story.)

"No, some cats like women better than - OUCH!!! You little ...."

The f-ing cat BIT me. Hard. I've never been BITTEN by a cat in my entire life. I must confess, Gentle Reader - I did not react well.

"I told you so," said Paul, going to get me a bandage, as blood spurted out of my hand, Monty Python-style. It was a deep bite.

Eugene was a bad cat. He had been BANNED from 3 vets, two of whom recommeded he be euthenized. His owner had permanent scars.

Like Lewis, Eugene was put on Prozac, but (surprize, surprize) he didn't react well to his owner's attempts to shove a pill down his throat. I hear sodium pentothol works wonders ...