There's no such thing as just one stray, they always bring in something else whether it be other strays or parasites or worse. It's the ones you don't see come in that are the hardest to get rid of, especially when they get up in arms and try to convince you that they invited you in many years ago and that you are the stray.
It's worse still when there are dozens of them, their little heads bobbing and swaying on unnervingly thin necks while their little limbs twitch and spasm from the strain of being upright for so long. That's when pity comes into it and you talk yourself into letting them stay inside where they'll be safe from all the greater terrors that would swallow them whole in the night.
One way or another, you end up removing them all eventually or they remove each other until one bloated and bloodstained little fella is all that's left. They're easier to get rid of in that you are now more evenly matched, one-vs-one is still fairer than countless-dozens-vs-one, no matter the size.
Unfortunately by that point they've developed quite the taste for violence and are more than willing to take you on when you least expect it. Believe me, I've had my fair share of rude awakenings when one the size of a toddler dropped onto me from the ceiling while I slept. Took a good chunk out of my forearm too before I managed to snap its neck.
The idea of leaving them to fend for themselves might seem cruel now, when they're so fragile-looking, all huddled up under the streetlights and by people's feet but you can't let them into your homes. They're humanoid vermin that make rabid badgers seem like tepid dinner guests.
It's worse still when there are dozens of them, their little heads bobbing and swaying on unnervingly thin necks while their little limbs twitch and spasm from the strain of being upright for so long. That's when pity comes into it and you talk yourself into letting them stay inside where they'll be safe from all the greater terrors that would swallow them whole in the night.
One way or another, you end up removing them all eventually or they remove each other until one bloated and bloodstained little fella is all that's left. They're easier to get rid of in that you are now more evenly matched, one-vs-one is still fairer than countless-dozens-vs-one, no matter the size.
Unfortunately by that point they've developed quite the taste for violence and are more than willing to take you on when you least expect it. Believe me, I've had my fair share of rude awakenings when one the size of a toddler dropped onto me from the ceiling while I slept. Took a good chunk out of my forearm too before I managed to snap its neck.
The idea of leaving them to fend for themselves might seem cruel now, when they're so fragile-looking, all huddled up under the streetlights and by people's feet but you can't let them into your homes. They're humanoid vermin that make rabid badgers seem like tepid dinner guests.
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