My neighbor slides his finger across his throat as if to imitate the straight-blade razor in the barber shop scene of a mafia movie, and he follows this motion with the imitating sound of death.
“Keep your eyes on your cat,” he said pointing to the cat chasing flies in the shadows of the bushes in our yard. “They are putting poisoned food in the area to kill cats.”
“Ahh,” I reply and act not to be so surprised by his gesture or his warning. “But why?”
“There are too many cats.”