Accidental animal cruelty
I 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.
( , Thu 6 Dec 2007, 11:13)
I 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.
( , Thu 6 Dec 2007, 11:13)
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Yes, of course I'll look after your cats.
My bro and sister in law were going away on holiday, and I was put in charge of feeding their moggies.
Two weeks later they phoned from Gatwick to say they were back, and how were their cats?
Thank fuck I can think quickly.
"They're absolutely fine," I lied reassuringly, finished the pleasantries, and drove like a lunatic round to their house.
Luckily they'd left the cat-flap open, so at least there wasn't shit everywhere. But they had ransacked the bin (which I'd promised to put out on the relevant day) and there was rubbish all over the kitchen floor. But nothing edible.
I spent an hour tidying up, piled several tins of cat food into the boot of the car, filled the cats' bowls generously and was glad to see them both appear, alive!
They hoovered up the grub, and I refilled. Then buggered off.
Imagine my guilt at accepting their present (booze)for looking after the cats the next day. If they could only talk, eh?
( , Sat 8 Dec 2007, 16:45, Reply)
My bro and sister in law were going away on holiday, and I was put in charge of feeding their moggies.
Two weeks later they phoned from Gatwick to say they were back, and how were their cats?
Thank fuck I can think quickly.
"They're absolutely fine," I lied reassuringly, finished the pleasantries, and drove like a lunatic round to their house.
Luckily they'd left the cat-flap open, so at least there wasn't shit everywhere. But they had ransacked the bin (which I'd promised to put out on the relevant day) and there was rubbish all over the kitchen floor. But nothing edible.
I spent an hour tidying up, piled several tins of cat food into the boot of the car, filled the cats' bowls generously and was glad to see them both appear, alive!
They hoovered up the grub, and I refilled. Then buggered off.
Imagine my guilt at accepting their present (booze)for looking after the cats the next day. If they could only talk, eh?
( , Sat 8 Dec 2007, 16:45, Reply)
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