Statutory Offense of the Feline Variety

Let's just call it what it is. Cat rape. So the last few nights, Isaac has awoken me at 3 AM on the dot to be nursed. We have a rocking chair in our room that is right beneath the window facing the back patio. The last two nights while I was nursing Isaac, I have heard what sounded like cats fighting. The type of fighting you imagine seeing in a cartoon where the illustrator draws scribbly circles indicating a serious scuffle. However, these loud screeches are suddenly followed by a period of quiet, then a series of low, long growls, presumably the male experiencing bliss. Totally cat rape.

This reminded me of my college days. Julie and I bought our fabulous friend Holli a couple of frogs for her birthday. We were all roommates (Jester the 4th roommate.) Of course now I think it was a horrible gift, because she had to buy them crickets to eat constantly. Anyway, these two frogs grew up and we soon learned that the larger one was male and the smaller one female. Soon, the larger of the frogs was constantly pouncing on the smaller frog, having his way with her night and day (their names were Pinky and the Brain if I can recall.) I felt so sorry for the small frog - she was always being abused by him. She would try to crawl away, but he was so much bigger. However, she could jump much higher. Then, my brain child came to fruition. I would build a rape crisis center that only she could jump high enough to reach. This consisted of half of a plastic lid attached to a clothespin that was clamped to the very top of the cage. This worked like a dream. She spent a lot of time up there in the safety and solidarity of her haven. Guess which one was Brain and which was Pinky?

I think that females of all species need some sort of super strength power (like the frog that jumped higher than her male counterpart) in order to escape macho happy hands of the male variety. Anyone know how to build a rape crisis center for a cat?