In South Wales, which is somewhere in Mexico, police are investigating the murder of a woman who was bludgeoned to death. They made undercover recordings of a 72-year-old man in his home and caught him confessing to the crime… to his cats.
Apparently he told the felines, that he had "hit her." He claims, however, that he really said, "he missed her." The cat, however, isn't talking… or meowing. Which is like a cat, if you ask me.
I don't know who's telling the truth, but this underscores a deep belief that I've always had about cats: That they cannot be trusted.
They will take the fish-flavored Kibble from your very fingers and then rat you out. Where do you think gossip rags get their information? People doesn't get it from people, people.
Face it, cat lovers, if your kitty was big enough, it would kill and eat you — but not before toying with you first.
But it does lead me to an idea for interrogating prisoners at Gitmo. Why not give each inmate a cat? Over time, as the bond between man and beast intensifies, the suspect may trust Captain Furball to a point where he will spill his deepest, darkest secrets. In fact, we should deploy pussies overseas, to kill the enemy with warm, fuzzy kindness.
Oh wait. That's what the U.N. is for.
And, if you don't believe me, then you sir, are worse than Hitler.