My husband and I rescued a cat who had also been abandoned by his mother (under a lighting display in an industrial park) before his eyes were open. We bottle-fed him, etc., and then gave him to my parents, who were looking for a cat.

The cat grew up to be insane, much like your cat. He was a large, powerful animal, and alarming to deal with when he lost his temper, which he did unpredictably when my parents were around. Whenever my parents weren't around (for example when we were housesitting for them) he seemed to feel it was his duty to defend the property, and would fight anyone who came near him. After he filleted several people, my parents declawed him, so he took to biting and boxing with his paws, which was not an improvement. (Before anyone jumps on me, I don't believe in declawing.) Highlights of his career include the time he hid in the darkness on top of the china cabinet and leaped from it to my husband's head, the time he almost severed my index finger, and the time he tore a large hole in my father's blue jeans and bit him so badly that he had to have stitches in his calf. All family members except my mother have scars from encounters with this cat.

Our vet was of the opinion that his mom abandoned him because she knew there was something wrong with him. Although he could be incredibly loving when he was in the mood, he was more like a wild animal than a domestic one.

He also had an amusingly twisted sense of vengeance; if for any reason any of the other cats yelped in pain, for example if my mother accidentally stepped on a paw or a tail, he would race from wherever in the house he was - and attack the dog. Now, the dog in question is a small, mild-manned, droopy-eyed creature who has never made an aggressive move in his life. Nevertheless, in the demon cat's eyes, anything that went wrong was clearly the dog's fault.

Nevertheless, my parents stayed the course. The cat died this winter at an advanced age, from lung cancer. The last time I saw him, he had little energy to do anything but sit on my lap and purr while I watched television. But he still managed to work himself up to bite my husband. It was his last hurrah. The wounds he inflicted were still healing a week after he was in his grave.

Letter Writer, you've already said you can't bear to put this cat down. I understand. None of the other solutions sound workable. Therefore you are stuck with this cat. Laughter helps. Try the behavioral specialists (my parents read lots of books and websites in their quest for a solution), but be prepared for the possibility that your cat may not be entirely normal and maybe nothing will work. Remember, cats don't live forever, and someday this cat will make a great story.

I have a stalker and my German Shepherd isn't agressive enough.

Okay. I lied. Sorry. Can't take the cat.

However I am going to offer you some advice that will probably get me tons of criticism, and I suggest you only use it as a last resort.

First, a little intro. A few threads back there was a woman who had moved house and whose mother had died and whose little girl was having some emotional problems. In the midst of all that, their two cats ran away. Various advisors offered various helpful hints, warnings, and critiques to help the little girl. Interspersed with all of those replies was a woman I will call The Cat Lady. (Okay. Could've been a guy but I doubt it.) She kept coming in with harsh words because this family had let the cats outside. Apparently, one should never ever let a cat outside.

I am going to issue this advice with certain caveats and assumptions. Let the cat outside.

One caveat is that you only do this after you have tried everything else. The other is that you do not live on a busy street or at a street corner. The assumptions are that you have already neutered the cat and that you are smart enough to do this gradually. Begin this outdoor experience for you cat with a crate placed in a shady spot and only gradually transitioning to being loose. If he cries, bring him in immediately. Repeat and repeat and repeat. Animal training is really people training. You may need to have patience to do this.

Why do I make such an insane suggestion? Because I don't want to see the cat killed. Just by your description, I am rather fond of your cat. Even if he is without balls, your cat has balls.

Years ago I lived in the country. Guess what? The cats were allowed outside. In fact, since I had had them since they were kittens, I trained them to go to the bathroom outside. Every cat I ever had went to the bathroom outside. I hate litter boxes, I hate the smell of them, and I would never tolerate them in the house. That cat piss smell is a real killer, isn't it? My neutered male cat never had an "accident" and never hesitated to let me know when he needed to go out. He yowled quite loudly. My neutered female cat mewed more softly and once, when we had accidentally left her indoors when we went to town, she situated her ass over the bathtub drain and did her business there. I simply washed it down the drain when I came home. It was her only accident.

I don't know how long the cats lived because I left them with my ex-husband when we divorced. The female was seven when I left and the male was three. I went on to city life and I assume they continued to kill baby chicks and birds, snakes, rabbits, and mice. Cats are much closer to wild animals than dogs.

However, do not be tempted to dump your monster out by some farm. We took many more abandoned cats to the pound than we kept.

Okay, Cat Lady. Come and get me. I just know you're out there, ready to pounce.