Tunisia was a land of stray cats everywhere. On an occasion we would feed the cats that roamed the neighborhood. We would place the garbage next to the house and then climb up on the flat roof with a huge rock. As the cats would eat we would quietly shove the rock over the ledge and target the cats below.
There were times we would take the recreation gear (archery set with razor sharp four prong tips) and hunt them in the streets at night. I recall one night where I shot at a cat and the arrow skipped across the street and missed the cat and stuck in a tire of a car. Immediately the tire hissed and went flat!!. Another time the arrow hit the cat and as it ran under a car. We could hear it clink clack clacked as it scraped the underside of the car. The cat screamed in pain and died.