Serenaded by strays, speeding stallions and squirrel wars

As I sit in my home, serenaded by the relentless, off-key meows of Harrington’s band of “aristocats”, I can’t help but wonder if the cats have officially claimed the town.

My neighbor and I have spent countless text exchanges brainstorming ways to curb our new, uninvited guests.

Should we plant a catnip (cat-cannabis) field out in the sticks to lure them into a blissful utopia? Perhaps. Do not take me seriously.

But it did send me down a rabbit hole—or, more accurately, a cat hole—of Lincoln County’s historical ordinances.

While researching, I stumbled across a headline from The Times-Tribune...