It’s a popular theory and mostly it works pretty well. But you should remember that cats, especially young ones, can rotate almost 180 degrees around inside their own skins. I got bitten, deep into the fleshy part of my thumb, when my feral little “friend” spun her head around on her collarbone like Linda Blair and chomped down.

Whenever possible, I prefer the cat-wrapping option, using my secret effete urban weapon — PANTYHOSE. Get a pair of ladytights, preferably the cheap thick crappy drugstore variety (used and/or torn is fine). Stuff the cat into the panty portion & tie the waistband around its neck. Cat will promptly stick all eighteen claws out in at least four different directions, and will snag itself into the nylon sufficiently that it can’t put up much more resistance. If it keeps struggling, you have two long stretchy “ties” (the hose-legs) to help you isolate whatever needs isolating. You can poke a hypodermic through the nylon fabric, if you need to give an insulin shot or hydration syringe; you can clip a small hole over the relevant area if you need to put ointment on a wound; and by the time the cat is thoroughly wrapped, it’s done enough to exercise its first amendment rights that you can usually manage to massage the pill down its throat, get the drops in its eyes, or swab the ointment into its ears without getting bitten.

Let’s say, for whatever reason, you’re in a confined space with a feral tomcat. And you need to get both yourself and the tom out of that space. What do you do? Herd him out the door? Good luck with that.

Grab the bastard by the back of the neck, suffer the punishment his claws will inflict, ignore the blood gushing from your forearms, and shuttle your sorry self and the God-forsaken cat out the door. It’s not a good option, it’s the best of a series of bad options.

You got it almost right, except one is not supposed to do that with adult cats. But in a pinch, or just to hold them still, the skin at the back of the neck near the shoulder blades (cats got shoulder blades?) works real good. Just don’t carry them around like that if they are full grown.

You grab him by the back of the neck, and he goes limp. More or less. Why? Because that’s how mama cats pick up baby cats.

How many stitches do you want on your forearms? Criminy sakes. This isn’t rocket science, people.

I firmly believe that cats are mean to start with, and our procedure just brought things to a higher pitch for a few minutes. I mean, seriously, do you really trust a cat enough to turn your back on him?

Though they’re not as shifty and devious as Republicans, I’ll grant you that.

But you have to admit, that process would make anybody mean, except perhaps the increasing number of sexually deviant Republicans.

My refusal to participate in any more DIY cat-fixings also left my father little choice but to go with the professional. Hard to do the cat-in-the-bag procedure by yourself, I guess.

The feral tomcat infestation came in a year when there were very few coyotes out and about. Once their numbers recovered in the mid-’80s, the frequency of stray cats making it to our farm dropped considerably.

On the other hand it might be a relief not to have to pay attention to the old nads. On to the next Marie Jon’ atrocity.

Cat in Bag: “England England England England England England EnglOOWWWW, MY NADS!”

Why has this thread degenerated into cats v. dogs, when it should really be about Jonah Goldberg, Foam Book colorist extraordinaire?

Jonah in Bag: “England England England England England England (snip) Ha ha, libruls! You can’t get those! Mommy already has ‘em in a jar in the cupboard! She says it keeps me from thinking the bad thoughts.”

Fight the real enemy, people!!!

One dog hoards all the cookies he’s given, and taunts the other dog with his wealth.

The other dog, due to his illness, allows his shit to fall wherever it may. He’s deaf so he can ignore the reaction of his housemates when they encounter his dropped shit. He’s photogenic, too, so he smiles and beams fetchingly at you while you’re busy scraping his shit off your shoe.

Cats? Not so much.

But stickler: Try a vet next time. Less trauma for you and the cat.

what he described was quite humane.

I also used to live on a cul-de-sac on the outskirts of town and we regularly found animals that people had simply discarded. They would drive by late at night and just get rid of them. We had a very sick black and white dog that just showed up one day. He was half blind and had arthritis so bad he could barely walk. He died within a day or two but I guess it was just too much trouble for his owners to care for him. Sad, very sad.

One of them died a year ago when he lost a fight with a dog for the first time in his life. He was a real terror, but around people he was the sweetest cat ever.

The other is now a magnificent old lady of twenty years, and still active. Hasn’t been sick in years, which pleases me for her sake as well as mine!