Ninja!

This is the first time this year I have felt inclined to Ninja Attack someone. I took karate for two years starting at age six, so I feel I am prepared to instigate some Ninja Action.

Here I am, trying to take a super serious quiz about what my spirit color is on the interweb, when I am interrupted by the most annoying sequence of high pitched calls. At first, I am convinced it is some sort of bizarre wildlife, because there is a copse of trees outside my window in which wildlife frequently frolics. This nonsense continues for five minutes, during which I detect a human element to the call. I crack my window, and sure enough, I can hear, "Heeeere, kittyyyy kiiiiiiiitty." Someone has lost their cat. And I know exactly who.

My apartment complex doesn't allow dogs or cats. Yet there are trouble makers among us, two idiots who have a pet cat. I assume this cat is named "Kitty", because that's what they always call it. Kitty. I've met a lot of cats named Kitty, but I've never met a dog named Doggy.
I feel bad for this cat. For some reason, they continue to let it out to roam around the apartments even though it obviously abstains from returning home on its owners' terms. Once, it was chilling in the bushes and I came up to it, trying to pet it. It looked so happy to see me. This may be my own vanity talking, but it was sniffing my hand and stuff. Then, one of its idiot owners poked his head out of a window and screamed, "Kitty, NO! BAD!" The cat gave me the saddest look and ran in the exact opposite direction of its owner. What kind of sadist would scold a cat for seeking love? What monsters!?

I've found this cat in the apartment building with the outgoing mailbox when sending mail, I've found it on my back deck, I've even found it sitting at the bus stop. Obviously, this is a cat that likes to do things its own way. And yet these imbeciles let it out, day after day, incessantly calling for it out of their window.

And here they are, interrupting my MOST important quiz-taking with their god awful, sub-human screeching. I knew that cat would make its escape sooner or later. I can see it now, hitchhiking across the Midwest, its meager bundle of cat toys wrapped in an old handkerchief.

So I may just go out there and Ninja Attack! them. (This would consist of me giving one of them a small kick in the shin, saying, "Shut the hell up," and running away.)

I could be exaggerating this whole thing a bit...but I doubt it.
Cats hitchhike all the time.