Accidental animal crueltyI once invented a brilliant game - I'd sit at the top of the stairs and throw cat biscuits to the bottom. My cat would eat them, then I'd shake the box, and he would run up the stairs for more biscuits. Then - of course - I'd throw a biscuit back down to the bottom. I kept this going for about half an hour, amused at my little game, and all was fine until the cat vomited. I felt absolutely dreadful.
Have you accidentally been cruel to an animal?
This question has been revived from way, way, way back on the b3ta messageboard when it was all fields round here.
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rob, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 11:13)
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Pheasants againNow I fully agree with everybody who has pointed out that these are thick as a very thick thing animals, whose idea of a good time is to walk across a major dual carriageway during rush hour traffic.
However, they have a stroppy, nay demonic side to them, when they get sufficiently riled.
Out on a mate's farm that just happened to border a game shoot (free birds!) and we had already seen a few galloping around, and had bagged one or two. So we amble through another bit of woodland when all of a sudden
"AwwwwrkAwwwrrkflapflapflapflapflap" A-Ha! Tasty flying meal!
"FlapflapflapBANGfla....swissssssshTHUD".
Dead as a dead parrot, inert, shuffled off mortal coil etc. So into the gamebag he goes to join his equally deceased friend. Said gamebag is then slung over back, pick up gun, head back towards mate. Halfway over fence (barbed wire, naturally)
"Awwwwrrkkk scrabblescrabbleAwwrrkkpeckpeckpeckAwwrkclawclawclaw"
Little bugger was only stunned of course, then doubly stunned when hitting the ground.
So, while the feathery immortal claws away, and manages to peck his sharp evil beak halfway up my crevice, I have to get off the barbed wire fence I was crossing, ditch the shotgun in a safe manner (known as break it and lob the fucker), unsling the bag, very gingerly release the buckle and then enter into all-in hand to hand combat with an enraged pheasant.
"AwwrrkOWYABUGGERAwwrrkpeckpeckTHUD"
Even after his demise, his pheasantness still had his revenge - some time later my dear lady wiff is tucking into her roast pheasant.
Despite being a bit squeamish about the whole hunter-gatherer bit, put a roasted to a turn dead 'un in front of her and it's starving wolf impression. Even asked for seconds.
MunchmunchmunchOWWWWWWWSHIIIIIT.
Piece of shot versus tooth = trip to dentists and many shiny pennies. Now that was a well hard pheasant.
(, Fri 7 Dec 2007, 11:02, 1 reply)
They areEvil bastards, nice story have a click from me,
I always try to knock one down for dinner when im driving through the countryside.
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Trollman, Fri 7 Dec 2007, 11:09,
closed)
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