A local boy killed a kitten and blinded two more a few days ago here. Poked their eyes out. Deliberately. For fun.
I didn't see it. Mishah heard the neighbors discuss it. "Never leave Marta alone outside when this boy's around," he told me, before describing what the boy had done.
The boy's 6 or 7, nothing memorable. When I first noticed him, he didn't want to share his roller skates with another kid - and that other kid called him zhlob, a slightly rude way of telling someone he's greedy (though not the only meaning of the word; it also means 'a redneck').
An older kid tried to kick the boy's ass for the kittens, but a neighbor from the second floor told him to stop, said he was no better himself if he could beat a small, helpless boy.
(Me, I don't think the boy's helpless. I think he should learn what pain feels like, someone's gotta show him, maybe next time he'll think twice.)
He's not from a poor family: his roller skates aren't something many people here would afford.
I looked at him again after Mishah had told me about the kittens and it made me shiver: what is it like for his parents, I thought, to look at their sadist of a son and know that one day he'll end up in jail - because one day kittens won't be enough for him anymore.
I told our landlady about it.
She said the boy's father was a former cop. She used the word ment - and she wasn't saying it tenderly.
She had no doubts that the boy would never end up in jail, even if he deserved it - thanks to his ex-cop dad.