The place where I live is an old residential complex. There are no elevators, and the windows offer absolutely no soundproofing. There are a couple of cats nearby—or to be precise, I’m not even sure how many there are.
The cries of these cats are utterly terrifying. Sometimes they sound like the wailing of a baby being scolded by its parents, and other times like the hysterical cries of a schoolchild who has committed some grave mistake. Hearing these sounds alone at night is quite horrifying, not to mention how they disturb one’s peaceful sleep. It always makes me pause and try to discern whether it’s really a cat or a person making those noises.
Several times, I’ve been tempted to rush downstairs and storm into the neighboring building to give those cats a piece of my mind. But then I hold back when I hear someone from next door already starting to curse at them loudly.
I never had strong feelings about cats before. I only knew that they tend to defecate and hide it everywhere. I used to think this was their way of being clean. That was until I realized they would defecate and urinate in anything resembling sand or dirt, then use their hind legs to cover it up with nearby material. So, finding their feces in sand, cement, or even rice and flour is not unusual.
Another thing is that cats always give off a vibe of being overly suspicious, which makes interacting with them somewhat uncomfortable—perhaps in contrast to dogs.
In any case, after these past few nights, I’ve grown to dislike cats more and more.