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KITTY HARVEST
Hey, Al Gore! Job for you down in Australia:
An Australian has come up with a novel solution to the millions of feral cats roaming the Outback: eat them.
Maybe a huge cat-proof fence?
I’m reminded of my mother’s tales of eating ‘possum in the American south in the 30’s and 40’s. Apparently you have to catch it and keep it well-fed in a cage for a few days before eating, so that the meat isn’t fouled by the carrion that is contained in their usual diet.
I suppose the trick is not to feed it more than you’re going to get off of it?
I think that’s what Kevni was trying to do at Scores, eat feral….
Must be an Australian thing.Posted by alien kiwi on 2007 08 30 at 10:48 AM • permalinkWaitaminit…...The Goreacle™ is gonna herd cats??
Woo hoo! That’s the perfect job for him!
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2007 08 30 at 10:51 AM • permalinkI was going to make a (tasteless) remark about “eating pussy,” but I’m too high class to do it.
Posted by Mystery Meat on 2007 08 30 at 11:41 AM • permalinkWhy limit this outstanding concept just to the ferals???????????????
Posted by Jack from Montreal on 2007 08 30 at 11:49 AM • permalinkWhere I live, the sheriff used to get rid of stray dogs but holding a big roundup and barbecue once a year.
In the 19th century, not recently.
Posted by Harry Eagar on 2007 08 30 at 12:38 PM • permalinkA kangaroo, nibbling at the grass, suddenly jerks his head up, ears twitching, all senses alert. A wallaby, taking no chances, scurries behind a log. A platypus, frisking near the surface of a pond, heads for deep water. And all the time, the slow, heavy, methodical tramping sound gets closer. Finally, the lower branches of the stunted trees begin to shake, and the tall grass on the edge of the glade parts with a loud swishing noise. The native beasts flee, as two unfamiliar, and – what is more important – enormous animals emerge from the bush. Elephants! Atop each of the pachyderms, seated on a teak howdah, is an elderly English sportsman, lured to Australia by the promise of some fine hunting. Accompanied by a skilled mahout and guide, and Prince, their trusty retriever, they are tracking the feral cat.
Smythe-Pooter (removing his topee, and wiping his nearly bald head with a red bandana): I say, Pendragon. It occurs to me that we don’t have a very clear idea as to the appearance of a feral cat. That fellow at the agency – a deuced slippery-looking cove, if you ask me – was a bit on the vague side.
Pendragon: Oh, I shouldn’t worry, Smithy. Professional Antipodal Cat Obliterators has a pretty good reputation. Well . . . at least, that’s what their brochure said.
Smythe-Pooter (slapping his hand on the stock of his Weatherby .338): I do hope we’re appropriately equipped. Do you recall that time in Africa, when Stanly Younghusband - God rest his soul – went out to hunt ducks before breakfast, armed with a 20 gauge loaded with birdshot, and was surprised by a rhinoceros? I’ll never forget the look of chagrin frozen on his face as the boys carried his remains back into camp. Poor sod . . .
Several birds rocket out of the tall grass a hundred yards ahead
Pendragon: There, Smithy! Did you see that? Some lithe quadruped slinking through the grass. And look at Prince! He’s pointing furiously!
Smythe-Pooter: You spotted him, old boy. Bang away!
Pendragon removes his BAR Safari rifle from its leather slip-case, adjusts for distance and windage, and fires into the rustling grass. A sharp yowling noise is heard, which dies away in a wailing decrescendo. At a whistle from Pendragon, the dog bounds into the grass and, a moment later, trots back to the hunters, carrying what appears to be a limp tom cat. The mahout gently removes the animal from the dog’s mouth and hands it up to Pendragon
Mahout: Lookee, sahib! No blood; no hole. Think sahib miss; cat only fainted.
Pendragon (holds the animal up by its tail): Damn it all, Smithy! Look at this! It’s merely some kind of domestic cat!
Smythe-Pooter (gazing open-mouthed at the unconscious cat): We came all the way to Australia to shoot that? And, er, not to make too fine a point of it, old top, but missed, into the bargain? Confound it, man, I could have gone down to the Portsmouth docks with a slingshot and bagged my limit in five minutes. Listen: I say we break camp and head back to Sydney and see if we can’t collar that agent! What was his name?
Pendragon: I don’t immediately recollect it. Something Spanish, I think.
Smythe-Pooter: Well, when we find the bounder, I’ll horsewhip him to within an inch of his miserable life. Let’s get these things turned around. Mahout! Hai, Hai!
A loud trumpeting noise filled the air, as the bush closed behind the clomping giants, the sound of their tramping feet slowly receding into the distance. Somewhere along the trail, a well-rested cat slipped from the lap of his nemesis, and vanished, once again, into the tall grass.
The real problem with eating cat is that it’s hard to eat a whole one in just one sitting.
The bonus? Four drumsticks!
Posted by joe bagadonuts on 2007 08 30 at 01:22 PM • permalinkHmmmm.
Joking about eating cats?
Y’all deserve whatever punishment is due you from the Mistress of Pain (Andrea).
Posted by memomachine on 2007 08 30 at 01:57 PM • permalinkThe largest contingent of feral cats I ever encountered was at the garbage can dump area at the Ioa Needle on Maui. Quite disturbing and more than a little frightening.
Posted by Kyda Sylvester on 2007 08 30 at 02:09 PM • permalink#20 retread
glove liners will require only one cat, whereas the full length coat (and throw in the hood) will require more than one. Since most cats I have known have been rather skinny, I am thinking that for a proper meal, an abundance of cats will be needed. Hence, there will be sufficient hides to make my luxurious coat.
(note to Andrea- I am not the one -errrrr- harming the cats, I am only using what these scoundrels have discarded?)(hears a big “sooking” noise)
Of course, if you’re serious about it, you’ll need some Cat Recipes.
A true story of one of the “stupidest things I ever did”, vol 14 capter 17, sub a4.
We used to go out cat shooting about once a week on a farmhouse I lived on at a place called Moonyanooka. As it was only about 5 km from the local tip we were assured a constant supply of targets.
I had the 12 gauge and had missed a shot at a cat that took off and hid in a culvert under the road. Being somewhat young and silly I thought I couldnt miss so jumped off the back of the ute, stuck the gun in the culvert (about 2’ diamiter pipe) an let one go.
The cat shot out the other end at about 3/4 the speed of light and I dont thing my ears have stopped ringing even today.
Never, never fire a shotgun down a culvert, ever.Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2007 08 30 at 06:54 PM • permalink“Did you ever think, when you eat Chinese,
It ain’t pork or chicken, but a fat Siamese,
Yet the food tastes great, so you don’t complain—
But that’s not chicken in your chicken chow
mein…”I can see the argument for consuming non-native species—but you may not eat my dear kitties! (Chester is too skinny and Prudie is mostly fur anyway…)
Hmm. Maybe I should apply the same principle here in southern California. I think I’ll go out and trap a whole bunch of those obnoxious English sparrows and make a pie.*
*Disclaimer: I doubt I would have the heart to do that, unless I were starving. Once we live-trapped a pesky squirrel who was eating our plums. Hubby gallantly offered to kill it if the deed would please me, and I can’t say I didn’t think for a moment about what a lovely burgoo a fat, plum-fed squirrel would make, but I said no. So we put the loaded squirrel trap in the back of the van and drove it up the mountain to Topanga Canyon, where we released it. You never saw a squirrel run so fast in your life! Then the little fuzzy sod ran up the nearest tree and began tearing off bits of bark with its little fists and flinging them at us. There’s gratitude for you…
Posted by Mary in LA on 2007 08 30 at 07:17 PM • permalinkMaybe a huge cat-proof fence?
Unknown to science.
Posted by richard mcenroe on 2007 08 30 at 08:35 PM • permalinkRaising them for meat sure is easier than milking the bastards.
Posted by Infidel Tiger on 2007 08 30 at 09:03 PM • permalinkEspecially since they don’t lay eggs, IT.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2007 08 30 at 09:16 PM • permalinkKyda, a friend of mine, who works for the state agency charged with protecting native seabirds, used to shoot those cats—the birds are endangered but the cats aren’t.
A public outcry forced him to stop.
There is an organization on Maui that encourages feral cat colonies.
Posted by Harry Eagar on 2007 08 30 at 09:50 PM • permalinkWHERE’S BRYLI??? Where’s the Cairns cabbie? There’s free cat on the menu…all you can eat…..and meet Fat Al…...
Capable of eating 50 fat ferals in a sitting. Bryli slopes around the Alice camp fires in his Jesus sheet with the hole in the top while trays of roast chat turn on the coals…. Bryli sucks the whole animal off a sate stick and picks his teeth while pondering the next - moggie, ginger…delicious decisions.
Where’s Bryli??
From About.com:
Australia’s estimated 12 million feral cat population did not spring up overnight; the problem has been worsening for decades…but no one cared one way or the other about these cats until someone proposed the concept that cats were responsible for the near-extinction of certain species. (And I have seen no study that concludes this to be true, including studies by the Australian government.) Now, cats are being practically demonized there. But don’t take my word for it, there are plenty of resources on this page that’ll give you the information straight from the horse’s mouth . Quoting directly from the Australian government page, Feral Cat:
Their numbers can be reduced by trapping, shooting or poisoning. They can be caught in cage traps. A fish-based pet food is recommended for baiting traps. Live-trapping requires considerable effort and often much time, but any non-target animals caught can be released. Trapped feral cats are difficult to handle and should be shot while still in the trap.
Feral cats may be located and shot at night using a spot light and a high powered rifle (or a shotgun at short range). Poisoning campaigns for rabbits, foxes, dingoes or feral pigs sometimes kill feral cats. They are highly susceptible to 1080 and may be killed by eating baits or by scavenging on the carcasses of poisoned target animals. In Western Australia, feral cats may be poisoned with manufactured 1080 Feral Cat Baits (4 g baits containing 6 mg of 1080). The use of these baits is restricted and each application needs the permission of the Chief Executive Officer of the Agriculture Protection Board or of his deputy.
It has often been suggested that feline influenza be introduced into the feral cat population as a means of control. In eastern Australia it has been shown that many feral cats already have antibodies to this in their blood (13). These animals would be immune and would be unlikely to die from a subsequent infection of the virus. Transmission rates of feline influenza virus are also low and it is more likely to affect domestic rather than feral cats. The greater population density of domestic cats in urban areas would provide better conditions for the spread of the disease. The use of feline influenza virus is opposed by health authorities.
Personally, at night I favour a spotlight and .22 subsonic rounds.
During the day, .223 with handloads: W296 powder beneath a Hornady 50 GR SP Super Explosive projjie.
I’m a cat owner, but, sorry, in the wild I have no hesitation in pulling the trigger ...
Harry—There is an organization on Maui that encourages feral cat colonies.
Good heavens, why? I’ve been out to the valley twice. I don’t remember seeing even one cat in the early 90’s, but in the late 90’s the place was teeming with them. Gave me the creeps. Nasty little buggers.
Posted by Kyda Sylvester on 2007 08 30 at 10:37 PM • permalinkThey were also known as “Roof Rabbits” during WW2.
The above link has an American connection that’s quite amusing.
Because Maui attracts middle-aged retired ladies with nothing to do to keep them out of trouble. And cats have soft fur and big, soulful eyes.
Birds, on the other hand, have little beady eyes and will not come up and rub you in exchange for tuna fish.
Posted by Harry Eagar on 2007 08 31 at 12:23 AM • permalinkAsh_
Ummm, youve seen the Omen films? Remember the big dogs protecting the kid?
I cant say any more than that, but some of those red-eye flashes in the pics ofbeezel-bubthe kid might not just be the camera flash…..Posted by thefrollickingmole on 2007 08 31 at 03:27 AM • permalink“The only good cat is a stir-fried cat” - Alf
Posted by Alan K. Henderson on 2007 08 31 at 08:52 AM • permalinkMinerva McGonagall would have kittens over this message thread.
Posted by Alan K. Henderson on 2007 08 31 at 09:02 AM • permalinkThe feral cat colony deal is actually a good experiment in game theory.
The stated purpose is to spay or neuter the cats so they don’t reproduce, while feeding them, so they do not have to be killed.
What happens, of course, is that people with surplus kittens dump them where someone else will feed them, so that there are always unspayed, unneutered cats. And when you have a population that has excess food, you get exponential reproduction.
So while the theory is that the feral cat colonies will eventually die off, as Kyda noted, the populations really explode.
If you think herding cats is tough, try making little old ladies understand the obvious.
Posted by Harry Eagar on 2007 08 31 at 05:38 PM • permalinkMaybe Michael Vick could figure out what to do with the feral cats…
Posted by Alan K. Henderson on 2007 09 01 at 06:43 AM • permalink
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I thought you did that in any Chinese restaurant.
Elizabeth
Imperial Keeper