According to this article, more than 40 mutilated cats have been discovered in Denver's suburbs over the past year. That could be as many as 360 cat-lives lost -- almost a cat-life per day for a year. Upon first blush, this is a tragedy of the bring-you-to-your-knees-raise-your-fists-to-the-sky-and-shake-'em variety. The fear in Denver (and Salt Lake City, plagued with about 10 cat-mutiliations this past year) is that there's a serial cat killer on the loose.

We learn from the movies, and anyone that's seen any of Morgan Freeman's myriad serial killer films can tell you that the only way to catch a diabolical murder machine such as the one responsible for this catricide is to get in his head. Discover his ritual. Try to understand why he's doing what he's doing. "Get close, but not too close," Morgan might say in his wise, old black guy way. He's saying it even now. In my head.

I'm no Ace Ventura, but allow me to play the part of pussy dick for just a moment. According to the article, some of the cats were mutilated with "surgical precision." Others look as though they were killed by a "wild animal." Conclusion? Some were killed by, like, a dog or car. Others by some damn kids using the drugs.

I find the idea of a serial cat killer uncompelling. Now a cat serial killer... that would be something. Put a bloodhound and Cheech Marin on his tail, and you've got a show.

Analogcabin @ 9:54 AM
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