Lost Hamster
At a friends house all too many moons ago (we were, 10 maybe?!) we were doing the usual thing of letting his hamster run around the living room.
Hammy was loving it, scampering about like the little tyke he was.
Eventually he got a bit bored and decided to hide behind the sofa for a bit of rest....
Me and my mate decided to put him back in his cage and so quickly hoiked forward the sofa...sadly it wasn't the newest piece of furniture in the world and was falling apart.
In the course of yanking it forward, a rather large piece of wood got caught in the carpet and managed to lever backwards *against* the direction of travel of the sofa...straight through Hammys mouth...and head...

Hamster kebab anyone?

That one was accidental...
(peripheral, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 20:46, Reply)

Don't fuck with fish!
A scuba diving tale of caution...

Before I start, I will just say that the cruelty was totally deliberate. However, the end result is quite amusing.

On a club diving trip, a couple of lads have just reached the bottom, where they are kneeling on a sandy seabed, getting their bearings.

One diver, Steve, spies something from the corner of his eye. Something half buried in the sand, and a fair size. "Fuck me," he thinks, "it's a monkfish", and swims over to have a look.

Now, instead of admiring this wonder of the North Sea, he does what any self respecting hunter-gatherer would do, and whips his knife from its sheath, and stabs it in the back before it can swim off. He then grabs the knife handle, and with a flourish produces his 'goodie bag' and jams the monkfish in, head first.

His original intention to carry it with him on the dive soon wears a bit thin (what with it being a big bloody fish, quite heavy, and still thrashing around in the bag). So he thinks to himself, "I'll just go up the shotline, chuck the bag in the boat, and pop back down again". Which he does.

Surfacing by the boat, he shouts, "How man, Vince, look after this for me", chucks the bag into the boat, and descends once more.

Vince being a bit of a nosy bastard wonders what's in the bag (thinking it might be a lobster) and goes to have a look. Now at this point it's worth pointing out that the combination of divers jumping in and out the boat, plus a bit of a swell, has caused water to gather on the deck. Not much, but a good 2 - 3 inches. It's also worth pointing out that monkfish are fucking ugly bastards, with a mouth the size of the Tyne Tunnel and a head to match.

So Vince picks up the bag, has a look in, promptly shits himself, and drops the bag. Whereupon the monkfish, by now a tad pissed off, escapes from its canvassy prison, and proceeds to chase Vince around the deck of the boat, still with knife stuck in its back, opening and shutting its gaping maw in a desperate attempt to get its revenge on, well, any poor fucker in the way. Which happened to be Vince.

Apparently it took about 30 blows to club it to death with a large diving torch...
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 20:36, 3 replies)

I saw V a long time ago....
and for anyone who says it's not cool to copy stuff off film & tv; Karate Kid? Rocky? Star Wars? If you never spent playtimes being those characters..

Anyway I digress...

If anyone's familiar with the premise of V, they'll remember the scene with Diana eating a live mouse. My brother and I see this and remember our aunt (not a real aunt) has a couple of mice round at hers. Off we trot, and while she's in the house nattering to our mum, we're in the shed/pet room. Cue the usual copycat behaviour of faux rodent ingestion, until my brother gets a bit too blue smartied and decides to spin the poor bastard by its tail....

The mice lived a long life. How though, after brother lets said poor bastard go towards a wall @ full pelt, I'll never fathom.

Length, about the same as Jane Badler's hair. But Shinier...
(Jimmy Jangle, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 20:27, Reply)

A Dog's Not Even For Chritmas!
Last Christmas I was wrapping presents in the kitchen. I was positioned in such a way so that I could see the football on the TV in the lounge, which was in the room next to it. My dog, a little jack russell named Bonnie, was making my life a bit tricky, as she waswalking all over the wrapping paper, trying to eat it. She ate so much that I finished a roll of paper, leaving the inner tube.

I'd thought I'd play a little game with Bonnie. The classic game of fetch you play with dogs. I took the inner tube, and threw it into the lounge.

I threw it in a way that made as many spins as possible, and Bonnie took it down and put it in her mouth to return to me.

This is when I noticed that I had thrown it in a vertical spin, whereas she was carrying it horizonally.

The tube was wider than the door, and she sprinted back me.

Poor girl dislocated her jaw. She survived and is back to her old self again, but - once I stopped giggling, I felt like a utter shit.
(rhyswynne - on every social network mullarkey known to man, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 20:12, 1 reply)

I don't see it as cruel
but when I was younger we used to have a bigger house, and alot of cats, which invariably meant kittens!! Yay! One xmas time, we got these tiny tiny stockings and hung them over our windows. They were the perfect size for 4 week old kittens to fit in without being able to escape, yet still looking exceedingly cute.

Years later, I went cow tipping on a cold August night (farm near a festival, not Reading ) which turns out to be intentional animal cruelty :s.

My mate was a right cunt though, he used to chuck his cat down stairs and into bushes. The wanker.
( McBadger COW, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 19:43, Reply)

Flying Cat
A good few years back i was staying over at a friends house and we slept in his living room each occupying a couch. My friend fell asleep while i stayed up and watched TV. As he slept his cat crept in and climbed up onto the couch where he was sleeping and climbed about, then it went over to his head and stood directly over his face, he was also sleeping with his hand over his face. Suddenly he groaned and flung his arm upwards, catapulting the cat 7 feet into the ceiling. Cats always land on their feet of course so i doubt it was hurt at all but it was a laugh when i told him about it the next day.
(Pimp my Clown is going back to the future on, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 19:41, Reply)

Back when I was in the Venture scouts...
we had a meeting round the leader's house about a holiday we were planning. I went to stroke his cat which gave me a vicious scram across the hand. Later, I went in to the kitchen with another lad to make the tea and coffee and the cat strolled in for some food. I casually closed the kitchen door so the scout leader wouldn't witness me booting the fuck out of the cat all around the kitchen. Not accidental but there you go.
(mr beepbap, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 19:27, 5 replies)

I'm going to hell
As a kid I have done lots of things that I cringe at today:

1. I used to play football with the dog, literally. It never occurred to me at 8 or 9 that the dog might not actually like being belted with a sneaker till my mom did it to me.

2. Same dog used to love running after torch-light. So I'd shine the torch on the ground back and forth and whip him up in a frenzy. However, I'd often get so engrossed that he would end up running into a wall

Sorry, dash. It wasn't on purpose
(zero.coke, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 19:13, 1 reply)

Poor little hedgehog.
A few years ago when I was sharing a house with my brother we came home from work to find a hedgehog sitting by our back door.
It didn't seem to be moving, even when we came close, but a gentle prod made it stir a little - it was alive.

"Poor hedgehog must be ill" we thought, so we phoned the RSPCA. Baring in mind this was a Friday evening the guy on the other end of the phone told us the soonest they could get to us was on Monday. In the meantime he told us to get a box, put some ripped up newspaper in the bottom for a bed, and give it a bowl of water mixed with honey. He also told us that if it didn't seem well enough to eat for itself we should use a cotton bud to feed it ourselves.

Anyway, Monday came and the RSPCA guy arrived. We showed him the patient and he started his diagnosis. "Ouch" he said as he pointed out that one of its front legs was missing "looks like it got hit by a car" - we'd not noticed this at all, RSPCA man gave us a disapproving look. As he continued his examination he then pointed out that the poor things jaw was broken - and that flies had already laid eggs in its throat. The guys face changed from "im disappointed with you" to "twats!".

All this while, we'd been (gently) jamming a honey soaked cotton bud past its broken jaw, feeding it just enough to prolong what must have been an agonising 3 days of being-eaten-alive-by-maggots-from-the-inside kinda torture.

Poor Shithead, we buried him.
:'(
(A Hospital Carpark, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 19:06, 2 replies)

Christmas
I admit this isn't exactly "accidental" but it is cruely, I took many pics and this is the only one where she doesn't look like she wants to eat my eyes out.

img.photobucket.com/albums/v160/LooSee/Christmasdog.jpg
( Lollylegs lite, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:59, 1 reply)

Cats, idiocy and a guilt that haunts me to this day
I know there are really bright cats out there, but all the ones I've had have just been dim. Here are some of the cruelties, near misses and the like inflicted on them over the years:

Django - liked to climb into things. My sisters had an inflatable tent, and having camped out in the garden, tried to deflate it, but it was still full of pockets of air. My Dad was called in to help, whereupon he started jumping on the pockets to get them out. One of them moved...

Smiff - I was little, and convinced by this 'nine lives' thing so Smiff found herself often taking trips out of the window (which never seemed to do her any harm whatsoever) and once down the loo... In my later years I have decided that children should either be raised with pets from the off, or shouldn't have them until they're a bit older... She must have had nine lives though as she died of old age, and never seemed too fussed by any of this behaviour.

Vlad - the dumbest and lovliest cat we ever had. Did I help when he got his head stuck in a tin of cat food and wandered round the kitchen crashing into things? No, I laughed. Did I help when he climbed down the back of the sofa and got stuck, his arse poking out the top? No, I laughed. When he fell into the pond trying to catch fish? Yup, I laughed at that too... And my favourite game - whenever you entered the room he was in, he'd look up and miaow, as if to say hello. If you then ducked behind the door and did it again, "miaow", again "miaow" and so on for hours.

Peggy and Kim - the current cats, belonging to myself and Mrs. Doom. We found out the hard way that Peg hates being picked up - to the point that she'll go completely apeshit if you try, thus forcing you to drop her onto a hard tiled floor at an awkward angle. Fool. Kim on the other hand tries to lick your face when you're in bed, and is frequently flung off into a wall in the middle of the night, only to come back and try again.

None of this is intentional, they're all just really, really dumb cats. And they're the best cats ever.

Length? Between 10-20 years usually.
( Sonic James Doom forgetting the date since... umm..., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:34, 4 replies)

My mate.....
was a strange young fella. I mean we've all been a bit cruel to insects when we were young haven't we? Well, both myself and my friend, independantly of each other, chose the humble cranefly as our quarry..... or, as it is known in these parts, the "Jenny-Meggie". Now, I put paid to a few of the little blighters myself, but with me, they had a fighting chance..... my 'weapon' was the TV remote, and I'd smash them out of the sky quite happily, but would NEVER kill one if it had landed..... this would have been ungentlemanly. I discovered from these duels that jenny-meggies were extremely tough, and could recover from a hefty whack. They would also attempt to pull out a precision screwdriver if you stabbed them with it.

My friend though...... he was a monster! He would freeze live jenny-megs in his freezer, the try to revive them wth 2 wires and a square battery.

The horror.

Wait.... this was intentional cruelty wasn't it? Ho hum.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:32, 2 replies)

A friend of mine
who grew up, as did I, during the 1970s had a neighbor with a dog that constantly barked. Then one day the house next to the dog's was sold to the chief of police, so the owner decided that he had to do something about the barking. He went out and bought a bark collar.

Remember, this was the 70s- technology was a bit more crude back then. So now here's a very stupid dog with a black box under his chin, looking like an idiot St. Bernard wannabee, in a neighborhood full of young boys.

My friend discovered that if the dog barked and got zapped, it was so shocked that it barked again. He also discovered that the dog has the brain of a grasshopper.

So they used to make a point of going past the house and making noises at the dog to make him bark, the stand back and listen to "Woof *yip!* Woof *yip!* Woof *yip!* Woof *yip!* Woof *yip!*"

It took six sets of batteries for the dog to learn.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:19, Reply)

Rotweiler Xmas Dinnerfest
A few years back we had a Rotweiler called Ben...big greedy bastard who would beg intolerably for a crumb, if it meant he might be in with a chance for a bit of food.
One Chrimbo afternoon 5 of us get hugely overgenerous dinners and none of us can eat half of a plateful, let alone touch the afters. So Ben thinks "Fuck me, I'm in here". And in he was, for he ate it all. Every potato. Every drip of gravy. Every leftover carrot. The fucking lot.
That evening the family are all enjoying a sit-down in the living room watching some film and we all have some crisps each. Ben, who was comfily still on a rug in the corner spies the food and literally cannot stand up. He's utterly fucked. We see this and think it's awesome. So we got a crisp and stuck it right in front of Ben's nose. He can only move his head, so he's stuck to the floor stuffed to fuck trying to avoid this crisp for 5 minutes, while we all laugh like feck.
That'll teach him, the greedy feck.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:18, Reply)

A farewell to rodents
To look at one's life in this perspective; So many small skeletons scattered on the ground, like offerings to a deranged deity. Ah, the humanity.

My first dead rodent was a hamster that electrocuted itself while its cage was being cleaned. It ate through an electric wire and died with a strange "Eeeeep" on it's lips. Better to go out with an eeeep than a whimper I guess.

(One of my former girlfriends had a hamster, by the way. It ate its own babies).

My guinea pig was smarter than the hamster, and did not kill itself. Apparently (I can't remember this, my cousin told me) I put it out of the window, because it "needs to be free". Even at age five I had a strong sense of justice. My parents tried to find it, but it seems the cat or something ate the stiff, frozen corpse. This was in the middle of a harsh, Norwegian winter.

The third, and last, rodent I killed myself was a pet rat. I stepped on it. It wasn't mine, but belonged to a girl I had the hots for. She cried, but wouldn't let me comfort her.

The last case of rodent death was on a much larger scale, close to genocide actually. For those who don't know, the Lemming is a strange and interesting critter. (They can, in fact, become so angry that they burst. Internally, though. Disappointing, that). They reproduce at a staggering rate, and some years there are too many of them - this is when we have the lovely lemming runs in Norway. (Driving to the mountains and hitting hundreds of little bumps is no fun.) On one memorable occasion we went grouse hunting with a dog, a schnauser. It got out of the car and just started eating the cute little vole-like things. I have no idea how many, but at the end of the first day it just laid on the bed of the hunting lodge, sighing and letting loose enormous evil-smelling farts. I've never seen so large dogshits in my life. And I've never forgotten the joy in the eyes of this murdering purebred bastard, when it jumped up to give me a big, sloppy dogkiss with its foul, lemminginfected breath and a tongue that I actually could see small hairs on.

What will its punishment be in Hell, I wonder?
(sb1, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:18, 1 reply)

Our cat Ralph
also known as Flabbycat, used to love to get on the edge of the bathtub in our first apartment and stare down into the water left over after I'd had a shower- the drain was extremely slow- and would pace back and forth along it, staring as though the Loch Ness Monster would emerge from the depths.

One morning I invited him to have a closer look.

Cue one very angry cat emerging in an explosion of used bathwater, running through the apartment and taking out the ironing board and the telephone table on his way to hide under the bed, then spending the next two hours making noises like Yoko Ono...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:09, Reply)

Certain Height
Is a simple game.

1.Get hamster
2.Hold hamster over bed
3.Drop hamster
4.Watch hamster bounce

That is all.
(Medibot, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 18:01, 1 reply)

Spiders
One 8 year old girl...

She collects big black spider. Shove in pasta jar. Collect some brown spider friends for the black spider.

Go to sleep.

Well, you know what happens next.
(mmmm curry doesn't really understand this sig lark, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:49, Reply)

Too many stories...
... regarding the worlds stupidest cats (my ex-girlfriends). My favourite though involves cat-flaps.

The cats had trouble using the cat-flap. It was one where they had to wear little magnets on their collars to complete a circuit to unlock it (to stop strays getting into the house). But they never really caught on that it opened when they put their heads near it and would desparately try to use their paws, much to my amusement (which used to get me the evil eye from the ex).

One day, I heard a bang from the back door, followed by some very odd meowing. Went to the door, only to find one of the cats with both her front paws jammed under the catflap - she'd somehow got her paws through, but it was still locked - and one of the neighbours tomcats raping her. Our cat didn't seem too happy, had pissed and shat everywhere and seemed in genuine pain. I however, stood and laughed at her (cruel I know, but a-she was once outwitted then bitten on the nose by a mouse and b-its not like I was raping her). She'd obviously been fighting with the other cat, started to lose and run for the safety of home. Where the inability to use the cat-flap became an issue.

Oh, and the other one used to sleep under cars and not wake up when they drove off. The vet used to call them "de-gloving" injuries...
(animal252 last activated his kitten hammer on, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:42, 1 reply)

Electro-Gymnastics
Back in the 80's we used to live in a house opposite farmland running for miles. Me and me dad used to go for walks through the fields and the forest at the end of this, but also used to suffer the occasional livestock walking past our cars in the morning as there were no fencing. So the local farmer erected an electric wire fence to keep all the cows in, and that it did.
The only problem with this was that it prevented anyone being able to traverse into the fields beyond, so some local kids placed big stones on a certain section of the fence bending it flat and crossable.
So me an me dad go for a walk, and me ol' dog Sam (a black alsation cross) follows us down to the fence. Now Sam was well aware of this fence and trotted rather sheepishly over to where it had been bent down. He sniffs a bit, then carefully walks across the fence placing his feet in the gaps between the wires. After he did this for the first time, he started wagging his tail like feck and running back and forth over this downed obstacle. Finally, Sam has power over the fence.
Me and dad are watching this and are laughing to each other about it, when suddenly;
BANG "YELP!!!"
Cue a flying yelping dog with all 4 legs stretched outwards floating 5 foot through the air, landing on his feet and sprinting back home. That'll teach the clever fecker.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:36, Reply)

Apparently Cats don't like roller coasters!
and I have scratches to prove it!
( Squiggy Alloria makes theme parks., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:31, Reply)

It only looks like cruelty...
My girlfriend's Jack Russell terrorist terrier loves nothing more than to play rough with me. As she has the traditional docked tail, her favorite game has now come to be known as Get-The-Nub. This generally consists of me grabbing hold of her nub and pulling her or lifting her back end up, often followed by grabbing her by the muzzle or the feet. She gets massively wound up and snarls and snaps her teeth at me, but keeps coming back for more. The best part is when she gets so freaked out that she then has to retreat and twist around to make sure that her nub is still there...

Before:


After:


I also often threaten to do things like pull off her nub and stab her with it... but that's another story.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:10, 3 replies)

Does it count as cruelty if the dog is thick as shit?

Our old dog, called Dog (the grot-chewer) was a veritable livewire of energy. Physical energy, sexual energy, chemical energy – you name it, bloody dog had it in spades.

Walking the little turd was a nightmare. When he wasn’t humping anything that moved (animal, mineral or vegetable) he would sprint around like a deranged cheetah, totally oblivious to it’s surroundings and my ever-increasingly desperate cries of ‘Get back here Dog, you little bollocks’.(Barbara Woodhouse would’ve been proud)

I swear it Dog had an inexhaustible energy supply like cold fusion or something (or so I thought). On every walk, I would get knackered just standing there watching it tanking about before it got tired of running / humping / fetching / more humping.

It lived to chase after stuff, but as has already been documented on these pages, some dogs are twatty when giving sticks back. To them, making you chase after them a la Duncan Norvelle was even more fun than them getting the stick in the first place. Dog was one of those dogs.

One day, I decided to conduct a little experiment. I took the little scrote to the outskirts of a nearby test track. This area inbetween had a straight line country path about half a mile long. The place was littered with stones. I stood in the middle of the path, picked up a stone and immediately Dog’s eyes had that mentalist glint about them. Whilst jumping about and panting (that’s the dog, not me), the first stone is thrown.

WHOOOOOOOOSH! – off like the nympho speed merchant that he was, he must’ve clocked up 40mph by the time he reached the area where the stone lands. He barely has time to start sniffing when I pick up another stone and start to wave it about:

ME: “OI DOG”
Dog (in a dog way): “Huh?”

Then…NEEEEEEOOOOOOOWWW! – bollocking as fast as his stumpy legs would carry him, he sprints back towards me, immediately forgetting what he was doing so far away from me in the first place. As soon as he gets within 10 feet of me I throw the stone in the opposite direction.

And like the purest shit off a shovel, Dog legs it right past me in pursuit of the second stone…and the game continues…

After about half an hour of this, my arm is tired of chucking stones up and down. Fuck knows how the dog kept going, and how many miles he covered at full tilt, but one time as I noticed him go by, I saw how his face was absolutely drenched in dog saliva, splattered over him because he hadn’t stopped long enough for it to drool down.

‘Time to go home’ I thought.

I put him on his lead and he was shaking…his panting was more like desperate wheezing…Darth Vader style.

He was amazingly responsive to having his lead put back on and didn’t struggle to get free like usual.

It was here I thought I may have gone a bit far with the exercise.

Now the walk was a good mile home and I insisted he sit at every road. The first road was fine…it looked like he was happy with the rest. In fact, it took a bit of a nudge to get him back on his feet.

At the next road…he collapsed. ‘Oh shit, I’ve killed Dog’ I thought.

I had to carry the little ball-ache the whole rest of the way home, with his tongue hanging out dragging across my arm, groaning and covering me in dog slobber.

I finally got him home and he barely moved for about 3 hours afterwards. He just sat in the corner twitching and whimpering.

“That’ll learn ‘im” I thought.

Next day – at walkies…we get to the path…I pick up a stone…and the thick twat starts all over again.

Another league of proper dumbass, that dog
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:07, 2 replies)

Frozen Hamster
Admittedly this doesn't involve me, but my mother, so:

When I was 16 my family moved from the tropical delights of balmy Warwickshire to the relative boring pedestrianess of Rio de Janeiro. My sisters were enrolled in the local British School and quickly became friends with large numbers of kids.

Sister no. 2 becomes friends with the daughter of a British businessman, who after a year of us living there was posted to Thailand.

This left the issue of his daughters 2 pet hamsters. Being kindhearted (to animals if not relations) sister no. 2 takes them in and puts them in their very own playpen/cage outside her room. All fine and dandy.

One day during the blazing hot summer the maid we hired was hoovering in that room. She'd earlier been playing with the hamsters and they seemed fine. In any case, she was now vigorously hoovering and noticed that the hamsters were not moving. She fetched my mum, who came over, looked at the hamsters, and decided they were dead.

Obviously it wasn't a good idea to keep two dead animals out all day when the temperature was about 45C, and on the other hand my sisters would want to bury the hamsters... so my mother decided to put them in the freezer to keep them for when my sisters came back.

With much sadness on the maid and my mothers part, they wrapped the hamsters in a plastic bag and put them in the freezer. All this time the hamsters gave all indications of being dead.

So far, so good.

My sisters came home from school about 5pm. My mother tells them the hamsters are dead, they start crying, and my mother goes to get the hamsters from the hamster morgue.

She opened the freezer, grabbed the bag they were in to find it was... empty. There was a hole in the back of the back... and right at the back of the freezer were two hamsters... frozen solid.

Apparently what had happened was that the hamsters had been freaked out by the sound of the hoover... had played dead... and then been frozen alive as they were assumed to be dead.

Thats the story of how my mother inadvertantly froze my sisters pets.

But it doesn't end there... mum was so ashamed of what she'd done she told my sisters that they'd already been buried, and when my dad got back got him to take the hamsters downstairs to the porter of the building who claimed he knew a pet cemetary to bury them. Later that year I found out from the guy he'd cooked and eaten them instead.
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 17:04, Reply)

We had a cat that lost its tail......
in an accident. Cat lovers will know that this seriously effects a cat balance. They will also know that Cats use their whiskers to measure the width of gaps they can squeeze through. My sister cut off all of skippies whiskers which kinda fucked the poor things up but that was nothing compared to what I did as a six year old fool. I was always making parachutes out of bags and throwing my transformers out of the window losing many. One day Using a tescos carrier and string we tied skippie to the makeshift parachute and threw her out of the upstairs window. She gently floated to earth and was fine. OK not quite she plummeted like a stone as she was way to heavy for our parachute, she hit the floor with an audiable thud. She survived but had a limp. My sister made a splint out of a lolly stick and did her best to hide skippie from our parents. after a couple of days the splint fell off and she appeared to be fine. Skippie lived another 12 years.

It was never mentioned again

Until Now
( Peej, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:57, 2 replies)

Accidentally gave a dog orange peel once....
...the dog spacked out.

I do it all the time now, best dog deterrant evar :)
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:55, 2 replies)

Toad
Mr Pachey went out one dark winter's eve to put the bin out, leaving the door open as he usually does. When he went back inside, he couldn't shut the door properly. Thinking it was just a bit stiff, he tried to heave it shut, but to no avail.

Thinking there must be something jammed in it, he opened the door properly and found a small, rather squashed toad. :(
(Pachey, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:48, Reply)

Small dogs
Also had friend some yeras ago who told me that when her mum and dad first met her dad accidentally kicked her scotty dog through the patio door. Apparently he lost his temper with it, but thought the door was open
(The Hooded Bean is in my pants Can't resist a Fanny/Tranny Joke, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:47, Reply)

Beware of things that go bump in the night
Long ago a friend was sleeping at his girlfriends bedsit when he felt something run across his face. He grabbed it and threw it, hearing a reassuring crack as it's skull fractured against the wall. his GF wasn't so impressed when she discovered the remains of her escaped Hamster the next day.
(The Hooded Bean is in my pants Can't resist a Fanny/Tranny Joke, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:45, Reply)

The Hamster Fling
When a hamster bites you, the natural reaction is to flick your hand, and it's known in the animal business as the Hamster Fling.

How the hell I didn't kill my hamster when I was 7 I don't know.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:43, 1 reply)