Many of you will remember from the old forum that, while I was packing up Smuggler's Cove to go to storage after Playa Miramar RV park had been sold, that I rescued a little tuxedo kitten. I brought him home; he was all ears, paws and tail and weighed 4 pounds. But such a personality! He grew into an 11 pound beautiful cat. Last Wednesday I came home from work to find him cowering on the porch, filthy, bloody and terrified. I looked him over good (well as good as upset, horrified and crying can look) and found 2 holes on either side of his shoulders. I thought he had been dogbit. A flying run to the ER and it was discovered that he had been shot! A quick measurement of the entrance and exit wounds at .227 and .229 showed it was a .22! The vet and I were just AMAZED that an 11 pound cat survived being shot thru with a .22! No crushed bones or vital organs hit. My next door neighbors lost their cat to a .22 bullet about 4 months ago so we now have a serial cat killer on the loose in the neighborhood. I filed a police report and am keeping him in. He HATES me. And I am about bonkers over all the crying and meowing to go out. He has now used up 3 of his nine lives on one bullet. I am just sick over this. How can some people be so sick and depraved? I'm just grateful that he's a tough little Mexi-cat!