It only compounds our overall misery by allowing bugs, mosquitoes, and all types of other annoying life forms to seek refuge within our living space. Black widows and wasps are everywhere in here. Brown recluses, and even an occasional bat, hang from the walls or ceiling, not to mention the hundreds of sparrows that come to the cell doors begging for bread crumbs when the food trays are passed out. And the many cats, who all have names and are known to everyone here, including the guards. The cats stake out territories and have babies and raise families. The prisoners befriend the kittens, and they become the only real contact with normalcy one might have. I have raised a kitten named Sox for two years. He lives in my cell, but comes and goes as well. They have made me put him out, but he comes back. He is potty-trained. He thinks he is human, I believe, and he is a smart cat. But he lives in a cruel world where danger, even for cats, is real. A guard not long ago stomped on and killed a friendly cat named Limo. He was a tiger-striped, gray-and-white fellow that loved to play and would jump up into any prisoner's cell if the tray flap was open. He was too trusting, and this guard kicked him to death. Nothing was done about that, even though it is supposed to be a crime. The guards are above criminal action, I assume. But my black- and-white Sox is safe with me. I hope to get him a parole and a good home one day. He was born in a prison, but I would like to see him gain his freedom.