Last Thursday my daughter came to the door with two smaller children from down the block.  The little one's were carrying a box with a kitten on a towel laying in it.  The little black kitty was breathing rapidly and laying very still, he was dieing, they wanted to know if I could help it.

I asked what happened to it, their response still makes my stomach turn ...

Their 20 year old "Uncle" Angel decided he didn't like the kitten and threw it as high as he could up into the air and let the kitten hit the ground.  The children cried out and he replied "Fuck that cat".  It's jaw and arm were broken and surely it had internal damage.

I looked at these little kids staring up at me with big teary eyes and told them the only thing they could do was sit down and pet the kitty until it passed away, so that way it would feel loved.  A few minutes later my daughter came back inside trying hard not to cry, her face was blotchy red, she asked if they could bury it in our yard.

My co-workers son who is a few years older than my daughter was at my house and had also sat with the dieing cat, dug a hole in the back under the gardenia tree.  The kids held hands in a circle and said a prayer.  Then they wrote a note that said "We'll always love you" and signed it. 

I told them I'd bury it deeper later since they didn't want to bury it just then, they thought it was my neighbor's cat and she might want to say goodbye, but she wasn't home.

Later that evening my best friend and I had Pumpkin come over and deepen the hole to about 4 feet.  We put the kitty and the note in a paper lunch bag - yes, he was small enough to fit in a paper lunch bag - and then threw flowers on top and covered him up.  The flowers were for the kids, so I could tell them he had a proper burial.

Anyway ... my daughter also said some else that bothered me ... she said those little kids said not to go near Angel because he'll give you a black eye.  She also said that the girl goes to school with her and sometimes would have lots of bruises on her that she would only show my daughter and said her father had hit her.  I told my daughter if that happens again to immediately tell me.

I called the police department to file a report, but they still haven't showed up ... I'm sorry, but a sociopath living at the end of my block is disturbing (watch out NL - he lives a few doors down and in the brown apartments or the blue house apartments across the street).