I am a feline love rat trying to protect my love kittens...

Dear George,
I have taken out a superinjunction (a legal system of getting absolute privacy from tabloid and red top newspapers) to protect my love kittens... There are scores of them all around Sussex, an English county. I have caterwauled on roof tops, fought in the streets, and mated with numerous females. So many, that I fear I cannot even remember their names. But they all probably had kittens - four or five at a time. Not that I had anything to do with my love kittens. I was, I admit, a love rat. I loved them and left them taking no responsibility for the little ones for five glorious years. If I try to remember, I reckon there must be more than 900 kittens that looked like me. But now I am a reformed (and snipped) character, I don't want anybody to know about my disgraceful past.
Will a superinjunction protect me?
No-Name Tom.

Dear No-Name Tom,
The new English legal system of protecting love rats, whether footballers or TV presenters, is working well for these human males. It's the males wot get the pleasure: it's the females wot get the blame. Our judges are nothing if not traditional.
But it won't work for cats. Your identity has already been revealed on Twitter. Just sending me a silhouette of yourself wasn't a sensible idea. A copy of your true photo came into my paws and I can reveal you are known in Sussex as Randy Victor, cat about town and love rat (your phrase not mine). You are a tabby and white who has the treatment of choice for sex addiction - castration.
It was Cats Protection who spilled the beans on you after they'd given you treatment. They rescue 5,700 unwanted kittens every years and the centre in Sussex reckons you could have contributed scores to this number. These moralistic humans take the view that unneutered toms like you (and me once) should be stopped.
Why? Well not just because we could go on fathering hundreds more unwanted kittens. It's for our own sake. The rooftop caterwauling life is pretty dangerous for us toms before the snip. We fight each other and risk catching dangerous blood born disease like FIV. We spray urine all over the place so humans don't want us in their homes. We roam for miles, taking our lives in our paws each time we cross roads. You, yourself, were picked up as a stray.
So, thank your lucky stars, Victor, that you were given a chance of a new life. As a female human once sighed; "Ah the deep peace of the double bed after the hurly burly of the chaise longue."
Personally, as I was given the snip early in life, I reckon I am happier this way. In this, I count myself both superior to humans who have a disgusting habit of doing it in and out of season for most of their adult life. Would you consider setting upa charity for pets with me? We could call it Human Protection and run a campaign to neuter and spay them? They'd be so much happier.
George