I’ve never seen something more sad or more disturbing, in my life. I had to do clean-up at her place, and you would not believe the smell. And there were more felines than I could count; cats running back and forth in the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, over counters, and up walls. Piles of the things. There was even a dead cat wrapped in a scarf, sitting on the couch. I heard that by the time the police reached her body, the cats had been feeding on her for days. She was barely recognizable as a person. Theory was she’d accidentally fallen on her kitchen knife and sliced her femoral artery cuz there was a lot of blood on the floor and a knife in her leg. Only reason the neighbors knew she was dead was the smell. She was such a private person that no one noticed she was dead for weeks.

But that wasn’t even the disturbing bit. This lady was something else. She was so attached to her precious kitties that she had an entire animal graveyard out in the backyard. Like nineteen graves, one for each cat that had died. Gravestones and dates and everything. When the developers or whoever mowed down that house, since it was such a dump, they accidentally dug up all those remains. It wasn’t just cats though. They found fingers, and toes, a foot, a shin-bone, and part of a hand.

At first, they didn’t know what to think. Like, maybe this crazy lady had dismembered someone, and put that person’s body parts in the graves with her cats? But there were DNA tests, and all the DNA matched hers. Nobody could figure it out until they found her diary in her belongings. Apparently, she loved those cats so much, that whenever they died, she buried a piece of herself with them so that they’d never feel alone. Without any painkillers or anything, this lady just hacked her limbs off one by one, cat by cat, until one day she nicked her femoral when cutting at her leg to get a body part for the last cat who died. I guess accidents will happen when you only leave yourself three fingers to work with.