Stupid Biatch.
Well, hey! I went for a walk yesterday just to see what was going down, and lo and behold, there was a pink slip on the crazy cat lady's door! A different sort of pink slip than the one that the city shelter leaves.
So I called the SPCA myself to make sure they had my contact information, and I updated the investigating officer on everything that's happened since October and my initial email. And golly, hey, while I was on the phone I just happened to let the investigating officer have that horse-boning skank's actual home address, which I didn't have at the time. It'd be good for them to have that, I thought.
The SPCA officer is going to do what she can; she can't fine the bitch for cats she can't see, and privacy laws (quite justly) dictate that she can't just barge into the house and search it, so we're at an impasse somewhere in the gray area where "good for humans and civil rights in general" clashes just a little with "good for animals and putting this particular wiffletwat away."
The good thing is that there's still a lot that can be done, and the SPCA is going to try to do it. Reach a happy solution and all that. And at the very least, there's now a file on this rancid sow. SPCA-lady indicated she'd be in touch with the city shelter and Animal Control to get access to all their records.
And there's always the psychological pressure of knowing she's being watched. Paranoid scab-pickers like this twisted bitch really hate the feeling of being under surveillance.
Ms. Cuntinella McTwatsalot may be a worthless cat-killing pile of beetle barf, but I'm telling you right now, I'm not having this sort of fuckery in my neighborhood.
So I called the SPCA myself to make sure they had my contact information, and I updated the investigating officer on everything that's happened since October and my initial email. And golly, hey, while I was on the phone I just happened to let the investigating officer have that horse-boning skank's actual home address, which I didn't have at the time. It'd be good for them to have that, I thought.
The SPCA officer is going to do what she can; she can't fine the bitch for cats she can't see, and privacy laws (quite justly) dictate that she can't just barge into the house and search it, so we're at an impasse somewhere in the gray area where "good for humans and civil rights in general" clashes just a little with "good for animals and putting this particular wiffletwat away."
The good thing is that there's still a lot that can be done, and the SPCA is going to try to do it. Reach a happy solution and all that. And at the very least, there's now a file on this rancid sow. SPCA-lady indicated she'd be in touch with the city shelter and Animal Control to get access to all their records.
And there's always the psychological pressure of knowing she's being watched. Paranoid scab-pickers like this twisted bitch really hate the feeling of being under surveillance.
Ms. Cuntinella McTwatsalot may be a worthless cat-killing pile of beetle barf, but I'm telling you right now, I'm not having this sort of fuckery in my neighborhood.