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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When I was a young 'un
I had a fondness for target shooting, with my trusty little air rifle. My Dad fostered this enthusiasm, reasoning that it was probably more healthy than running around town centres with BB guns. My usual routine would be to go into my garden with a chair or mat, and take shots into a target mounted inside my pellet catcher. However, on one occasion, upon returning from school, my Dad walked up to me with a gleeful expression on his face and bade me come into the garden.
There, on a brick, against the backdrop of the brick wall of our shed, were 3 slugs. On the floor some distance away was my air rifle. My face contorted into the same gleeful expression.
I don't know if you've ever seen what an air rifle does to a snail, but basically, the only noticeable remnants of these garden pests were a few small spray marks on the brick wall.
( , Sun 9 Dec 2007, 15:39, Reply)
I had a fondness for target shooting, with my trusty little air rifle. My Dad fostered this enthusiasm, reasoning that it was probably more healthy than running around town centres with BB guns. My usual routine would be to go into my garden with a chair or mat, and take shots into a target mounted inside my pellet catcher. However, on one occasion, upon returning from school, my Dad walked up to me with a gleeful expression on his face and bade me come into the garden.
There, on a brick, against the backdrop of the brick wall of our shed, were 3 slugs. On the floor some distance away was my air rifle. My face contorted into the same gleeful expression.
I don't know if you've ever seen what an air rifle does to a snail, but basically, the only noticeable remnants of these garden pests were a few small spray marks on the brick wall.
( , Sun 9 Dec 2007, 15:39, Reply)
« Go Back