Eight-week-old kittens were being sold or given away on Santa Monica’s Montana Avenue yesterday afternoon. You know how it is when you walk up and see these little guys in their cages — you want to take one of them home. I’ve already got two cats but I could roll with a third, I was telling myself. But I know what would happen if I did. Mouse, my obese Siamese male, would immediately assert his authority by beating up the little kitten for days on end. That’s what he did when I brought home little Aura, a white munchkin. He beat her up several times a day — pouncing on her, making her whine and cry, holding her down, etc. All male cats have to be “the lion” and show the other cats in their domain who’s boss. In this sense Mouse is a bit of an asshole but I can’t change his DNA. I wouldn’t want to subject a poor little kitten to this kind of abuse so no adoptions, I guess. This is what went through my head as I stood at the NE corner of Montana and 15th around 5:45 pm yesterday and thought it all over. A half-hour later I went over to the Aero and said hello to Anthony Breznican and got a copy of his book, Brutal Youth.
