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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Kitty Kebabs
I mentioned that I like cats? While I was growing up we had a fine selection of the creatures, none more so that Satan. Originally named Sultan, he proved to be such a devious little bastard that a name change was in order.
Satan would eat anything that wasn’t nailed down. He’d trough a bowl of kitty chow, before wandering over to whatever delectation you had on your plate and trying to subtly distract you before pouncing on it like he’d never been fed.
One night, while engrossed in Coronation Street and eating some particularly fine prawns, my mum was oblivious to the fact that the cat, like a stealthy, furry ninja had positioned himself at her feet and was ready to attack. Like a feline periscope, he shot his front paw upwards and began to slowly sweep across the edge of the tray, inching further and further in before finally coming into contact with the object of his desire, a prawn. I watched in horror as my mum, totally unaware brought the fork down to spear the exact same prawn. Fork and paw collided and I’m not sure who was more surprised as mum looked down to find that she’d shish kebabed the cat’s foot.
We gave the rest of the prawns to bribe him not to tell the vet. And we ate at the table after that….
( , Sun 9 Dec 2007, 3:32, Reply)
I mentioned that I like cats? While I was growing up we had a fine selection of the creatures, none more so that Satan. Originally named Sultan, he proved to be such a devious little bastard that a name change was in order.
Satan would eat anything that wasn’t nailed down. He’d trough a bowl of kitty chow, before wandering over to whatever delectation you had on your plate and trying to subtly distract you before pouncing on it like he’d never been fed.
One night, while engrossed in Coronation Street and eating some particularly fine prawns, my mum was oblivious to the fact that the cat, like a stealthy, furry ninja had positioned himself at her feet and was ready to attack. Like a feline periscope, he shot his front paw upwards and began to slowly sweep across the edge of the tray, inching further and further in before finally coming into contact with the object of his desire, a prawn. I watched in horror as my mum, totally unaware brought the fork down to spear the exact same prawn. Fork and paw collided and I’m not sure who was more surprised as mum looked down to find that she’d shish kebabed the cat’s foot.
We gave the rest of the prawns to bribe him not to tell the vet. And we ate at the table after that….
( , Sun 9 Dec 2007, 3:32, Reply)
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