Picture the scene...

... In the dead of night, a balding, frustrated late 20s (early 30s) man creeps out of his back gate. He skulks over to a neighbour's house and uses their wall to shimmy into a garden of green grass and luxurious vegetables nestled in a perfectly preserved patch.

He slowly and deliberately drops his trousers and shits onto the neighbour's courgettes. Then, without any recourse, he sneaks back to his home and thinks nothing of it only for the owner of said veg patch to discover faeces all over his/her organic farming.

Now, doesn't that sound utterly unnecessary and avoidable? You'd want to lock the person up. You'd want to move house. You'd want to put cat poison down and kill the shitting little thing.

OK, so I've ruined the M Night Shyamalan ending but hopefully you see the massive annoyance other people's pets cause me. It's bad enough we have to clear up the shit of thousands of people that couldn't work out how to use a credit card (or get a 105% mortgage on a footballer's house while working as a waiter) without having to clear up the shit of their pets.

I would love my own dog. I think it would make me happy, healthier and give me that buzz of knowing someone that loves you is waiting for you at home. But I work all day and I don't think it's fair on man's best friend to be locked in a house all day. So, because I couldn't look after it properly, I have put my dog desires on hold (ignore how wrong that looks and please don't copy/paste this out of context). So why do people, that blatantly can't look after pets insist on getting cats?

"They're really independent", "They come and go as they please", "They don't take much looking after". The same characteristics of the HIV virus I think you'll find and look how that worked out. At least HIV doesn't shit on my courgettes.

Now I'm not getting into the whole 'cats are worse than AIDS' argument again. I have met four lovely cats in my life. And I can name them. Corky, Belly, Whippet (all owned by one person) and Fat Man. They all have personalities, are loyal, and are undoubtedly beautiful. And, do not shit on other people's property. The first three had a country estate to go at and Fatman is a house cat.

My point being that if you must own a cat, do it responsibly. If you must own a cat, try and train it to shit in your own house or garden. Just like I have held back from having a dog because it's not fair on the dog itself, don't have an untrained cat near my garden. Because, if I have to clear one more piece of shit from my already diseased and withered courgette plants, your cat will almost certainly die. Just like you would whoop seven shades of shit out of a bald man shitting in your garden, I too will seek the same vengeance on the feline equivalent. But with poison and a catapult filled with gravel.