Fear the claw...
Last year I was in a pub one bank holiday weekend. Halfway through the evening I noticed the pub had a resident cat which I duely tried to befriend. However, no sooner than I thought I had gained the cat's trust enough to touch it's nose with mine (just something I like to do with cats noses OK)the bloody thing gave me a fierce left hook. This would normally lead me to back off but unfortunately two of its claws had well and truely lodged in my cheek. Cue an agonising minute where I'm desperately trying to prise the two claws out of my face without tearing the crap out of my cheek. All the while the cat is going absolutely apeshit flailing around scratching and biting my arms and face. In the process I knocked over a drink and made a small child cry. Everyone else in the pub just laughed. I still even have a scar to remind me of the event.

Pretty much the only time I've wanted to kick a cat up the chuff.
(Errorist, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:48, 1 reply)

It was a dark, dark stormy night. No it wasn't
We were at a big Scout camp years ago and there were many attractions such as imflatible boxing etc which was quite fun.

There was also a MAD women who had a pet tent who very much resembles the Cat women from the simpsons but made less sence.

We were all allowed to go in and see the pets and touch them (DONT GET ANY WRONG IDEAS) and feed them etc.

A friend of mine decided he wanted to stroke this VERY large about 1.5m snake that was the width of about two of my arms. He did so and whilst looking round to brag at us all for not touching it the b*rsted did not only bite him it put its mouth all the way over his hand and was trying to ingest his arm.

Needless to say about an hour later the snake was no longer in one peice and said mate was in hospital and we all got FREE ice cream :D Hmmmmm love free ice cream.
(tfi049113 Was found alive on, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:47, 8 replies)

I was once attacked by a grizzly bear
....or at least thats what I tell my mates. The truth is I received a kicking from a panda, the softest most docile looking bear of the whole species.




If anyone knew what really happened my reputation as the local hard man would have been in tatters.
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:46, 2 replies)

Cows
Many a year ago, I used to live just near a farm owned by a friends dad. Many a summers day was spent messing about in the fields, driving about on quad bikes and moving animals.

Now this farm mostly kept cows, but had a few sheep as well. Stupid sheep, but they form a different story.

So one day we moved a herd of cows from one end of the farm to the other, through about 5 fields. We had just finished moving them and started to head back a different way. I was walking and the other guy was on the quad.

"You might want to hurry up," says he, "the cows are coming for you!"

I walk on regardless, disregarding his obvious falsehoods.

"You really might want to start running."

At this he started to speed up.

I thought I might want to turn round at this point, and as I did I witnessed roughly 50 cows running towards me.

Some undergarment soiling may have occured at this point.

I set off at a sprint, and got to the far gate which my friend had already gone through and closed. I did something later described as 'essentially running through the gate' and collapsed in a heap on the other side.

It was actually terrifying. The git.

Makes me happy that he has to put his hand in cows asses.
(PenguinOfDeath is Scottish, and most likely angry, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:45, 1 reply)

Evil passion killing bunny
Seeing as this is a reposted QOTW, I'll grace it with a repost. It's bit like BBC2, without the license fee.

A year ago I was seeing a lass who had was babysitting a cute ickle bunnywabbit called "Rabbi", as named by his Jewish custodians. She invited me back for coffee and groping post date, so as the front door opened I was introduced to her temporary charge. Rabbi was a free range house rabbit, who'd been trained to use a cat litter tray and with his little twitchy nose and fluffy bunny tail was as cute as cute gets.

There is one issue though. I fucking hate rabbits. They never live up to their cute billing. As a general rule, they're grumpy, smelly and thick. Kind of like a rodent version of Sara Cox.

Not Rabbi. Oh no. He jauntily bounced over to me and sniffed my hand before jumping into my lap. Rabbi enjoyed being petted, so I made a fuss of him much to the delight of the lass, I felt my prejudice melting away as I ticked Rabbi's little bunny jowls.

More primal urges were calling however, so as my lady companion relaxed on her sofa I edged over and kissed her. Hands were grasping and caressing the backs of heads as the kissing grew in both intensity and promise. Oh yes. I was scripting a tale to rival the best of Mr Spencer when I felt a soft, furry "plop" in my lap.

Yes, hello Rabbi. Yes, you're very cute. Have a fuss. Amid some fawning giggles, Rabbi jumped back down to forage on the floor, bless his little furry socks.

Where was I? Ah yes...

A few snog-laden minutes later there's another warm furry presence in my lap and not the one I had in mind. Rabbi again.

Showing a multitasking ability far in advance of what can be reasonably expected for my gender, I carried on kissing and caressing. I felt a draught of cold air round my neck as the top button on my shirt was popped open.

Rabbi was seemingly most put out for he jumped into my lap a good five times while the kissing tempo increased. I did the honorable thing and ignored him, hoping he'd get the hint.

My hand brushed my thigh as I felt an urgent need to adjust my clothing in the face of such a pheromone induced assault.

What the fuck?

My hand brushed some hard, round marbles and I knew instantly why he'd been so keen to get into my lap. As passion was replaced by surprise and disgust, the mood changed sharply.

Rabbit shit isn't the most offensive substance known to man, but Rabbi had planned for this. Not only had he been shitting on me, he'd also been pissing on the cushion next to me, enraging my date a tad and utterly ruining the mood. Passion evapourated amongst a fluffy of disinfectant spray, wet cloths and oaths.

As I bade a chaste farewell half an hour later, I swear I heard sniggering from the furry little bastard.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:40, 1 reply)

What bunnies do best
when we got our pet rabbit, he was just a wee ball of fluff. Happy to be picked up, cuddly and soft.

Inevitably, he didn't stay that way for long.

In the fullness of time, he reached his present size (massive) and in due course, sexual maturity. I can't remember how old he was at the time, but we knew. Oh yes, we knew.

He shagged everything in the garden. Except the cat, who was too fast and too good at climbing.

The kids couldn't leave any toys lying around (which taught them a valuable lesson) or it ended up covered in icky bunny cum.

The final straw, and the one which got the appointment made at the vet, was the tent. Yes, tent. Mucho cheapo tent, not meant for camping (I don't do camping, darling) but just for the girls to play in.

The little furry love god started humping the corner of the tent. I chased him away from it. He moved to the next corner and started humping there. I chased him away. He moved ... well you get the picture. He would not give up on his attempt to become the first mammal to impregnate a blue tent. I ended up grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and putting him back in his cage. Two days later, he went to the vet and had his nuts cut.

I had to take him and pick him up (MrWitch refused to have anything to do with it) and he bore a grudge against me for weeks (the rabbit, not MrWitch). Still, it stopped him humping for rabbitkind, so money well spent.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:37, 1 reply)

Not really attacked as such...
But when I was about 9 I was walking down the local highstreet with my dearest mother little knowing the fate that was about to befall me.

Being a wee lad I had the good old wee lad haircut (kinda like a pudding bowl haircut). Obviously, a flying rat saw this as an oppertunity to start a nest and flew down upon my unprotected head and sat there scratching.

Now this didn't hurt and I happily walked along the high street with shoppers gawping at me with a fucking pigeon on my head. When it flew off I was disappointed that it had found some other haven to shit on

Fortunately, it didn't do that to me, although I was obsessed by cleaning my hair for a few days
(The_Reaper, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:37, Reply)

I knew a girl that got kicked in the face by a horse...
For many years after she had a horseshoe shaped welt on her fractured face.
It is this i stared at as she expertly wanked me off one fine afternoon.
(wrigglesworth, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:35, 4 replies)

Picture the scene
You're eight years old, out on the moors as part of a school trip, you've walked for miles, dodging the shit, admiring the scenery and wondering when you'll be able to sit down and get a bite to eat. Eventually, that wondrous moment arrives, as you sit down and open the lunch that your mother has lovingly made for you. And as you sit back, enjoying your sandwich, lunchbox placed to one side, as no-one would seriously think of trying to nick off with your food on the Derbyshire moors, right? Wrong. As I was eating my sandwich, unbeknownst to me I was being cased up by a sheep. A rather devious sheep, and I suspect it may have been trained in karate. This ovine ninja crept up on me, and went in my lunchbox, and stole my banana. MY banana!
( jim_bob can herd cats., Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:33, Reply)

I got attacked by a shark... while out of the water.
University "field course", meaning "excuse to go to the seaside in Scotland".
We went out on one of the field station's research boats when they were sampling, i.e. putting a big net down and seeing what they dredged up.
The caught a little 2-foot long shark, but weren't interested in studying that. One of the crew passes it to me to chuck back, and it bends itself around 180 degrees and lunges for my leg. It just gets my trousers, so I don't notice until I look down to see why it's stuck.

Picture:
tinypic.com/view.php?pic=sfbajd&s=3
( Labmonkey last thought about having another coffee on, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:31, 7 replies)

Cheetahs
once pissed on my leg.

Backintheday, when I was a young Robert, our dad took us to a cheetah reserve. The poor wee beasties were caged, ostensibly to acclimate them to the wilderness (does that make sense?).

Anyway, Mother Mugabe dragged me closer to the fence to get a closer look at one of the most splendid cheetahs. A beautiful animal it was, lying next to the fence with its head held proudly high. The animal then got up, turned around and pissed on my foot.

That wasn't what caused my mother to ROFL (the only time I have ever seen this being done). The cause of that was the wizened Scottish crone standing nearby clucking her tongue and saying "ooh, you'll have to change the wee one's pants now"

*goat*
(Tiktock Beating off flamers with a shitty stick, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:30, Reply)

Marley
As well as the house cat, Spodge, there are a couple of others that hang around. One of these is known to us as Marley (because he wails outside the door...) and he hung around looking hungry and pathetic until we fed him. Unfortunately he is also a bit radged and would turn on us for no reason as we were feeding him with full on teeth and claws. My housemate TC and I both have nasty scars to illustrate this. Eventually I called the RSPCA and explained the situation. There were two choices - take him away and put him down or neuter him and bring him back. Had to pick the latter, so it was done. Today Marley still hangs around and wails for food, looking sleek and healthy but we still don't dare put our hands near him, so when we feed him we have to don big leather gardening gauntlets and do it very quickly.
(misspiggy In danger of having to get a job, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:30, Reply)

Horrific
I got attacked last night by the fruits of Kaol's horrific genetic experiments.

The furry tale, the beak, the unusual genitals. It was horrific, it tried to impregnante me against my will.

N.B This bears no resembelence to the truth whatsoever.
(PenguinOfDeath is Scottish, and most likely angry, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:25, 3 replies)

a trouser snake
once vomited on me.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:24, 10 replies)

i was attacked by a pigeon
in trafalgar square. the little bastard pecked fuck out of my skull.
this may well have been because my dad, who by this time was sitting by the fountain, pissing himself laughing, had dumped a large hairy handful of seed* onto my head, turning me into an impromptu bird feeder.
twat.

*BIRD seed, you dirty-minded feckers!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:23, Reply)

Next time you go to a zoo, bring a mirror.
Seriously; it's literally minutes of fun.

One of my brothers has Down's syndrome, and until recently would take a mirror and/or a magnifying glass with him wherever he went. He likes looking at the flipped images of things in the mirror, and the distorted and enlarged images of things through the magnifying glass.

One day he brought his mirror with him on a trip to Colchester Zoo (and a lovely zoo it is; do visit it if you have the chance). Once in, the first things you go past are some caged birds, one of which is a kookaburra.
The bird saw itself in bro's mirror, mistook its reflection for a rival, and decided to teach this interloper a lesson. It divebombed... straight into the glass of its enclosure. THUMP! Stupid bird.

The chimps loved seeing themselves in this mirror, by the way. I'd definitely recommend bringing a mirror if you're going to see apes at the zoo.
( Bob Todd whee, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:21, 2 replies)

I was savaged by a Leopard the other day
When I say a Leopard, I actually mean my small pet leopard gecko, and when I say savaged I mean it put it's mouth over the end of my finger and squeezed with toothless jaws.

But I did let out a big girly scream though and shake the fucker off my finger, only to see her arc gracelessly through the air only to land on the carpet between my 2 cats....(she escaped untwatted).

Of the many lizard bites I have received in my time it was the least painful. Top Tip - don't get bitten by a Water Dragon.
(Mookystink is living on stolen toast, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:20, 3 replies)

The Attack of the Unimaginative Repeating Twat-Sloth
....

Bastard thing has struck 4 times this year so far...

I never usually stoop to this level.. infact I make a fucking POINT of NOT clicking, but if Scaryduck's Highest ever score can be a result of this questionable technique....

Click "I like this" if you want to see this vile beast eradicated.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:20, 11 replies)

A sneaky attack
My ex-Mrs had returned from some sort of emergency trip abroad to see her mother (and also enjoy a brief fling, the cheating cow) for a month, and The Cat - 'her' cat - was a bit stand-offish with her.

But after a few hours we settled down for an evening in front of the TV, The Cat climbed up onto her generous lap, got himself comfy, scrunched up his eyes and started purring.

"See, he remembers me," she said, before leaping up with a scream and flinging The Cat across the room.

He'd emptied his bladder over her, and she was drenched. I like to think he'd figured out that she was a bad girl*, months before I twigged.

*this is obviously utter tosh
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:17, Reply)

Since the death of Rocky, my prize fighting whelk (see page 1)
I am assembling a crack team of fighting animals.

I am therefore seeking:
- a hard cock
- a killer pussy
- big puppies
- a great ass

*ducks*
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:16, 10 replies)

I've got a mouse's ear...
Just the ear, mind.
( girlinthehole, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:14, 1 reply)

Axl, furry ball of death.
One of Mr Maladicta's work colleagues acquired a little black kitten a while before we met, and named him Axl, after the mentally unstable and hyperactive Guns N' Roses frontman. The name seems to have stuck: at first, he appears cute and innocent like this:
photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v135/122/12/284001300/n284001300_1498961_5384.jpg
but then, as soon as you think "aww nice kitty!" and go to pet him, this happens (he did it to me too, the other half happened to be taking a photo for me though):
i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc178/starclaidissa/DSC00027.jpg"

In Pervland, I regularly walked past a shop with a cage outside when the weather was good, which contained this:
i213.photobucket.com/albums/cc178/starclaidissa/S6001140.jpg
A sweary, angry mynah bird that made angry noises at literally everyone to pass its cage... except me. Either it discriminated against non-Italians, or it liked me, and I'm not sure which.
( Maladicta, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:14, Reply)

BINDUN
www.b3ta.com/questions/animalsattack/
( Geoff the Clownfish You know Myra, some people might think you're cute, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:14, 5 replies)

fighting animals
I like a hard cock.

Etc.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:11, 7 replies)

My Parrot
Has just started to swear. Much to the great displeasure of the better half.

She says she used to take pride in the fact that our bird was well behaved.

Now when we wake of a morn it is to the sound (which is undeniably my voice) of 'For Fucks Sake' 'Fuck' 'Fuck' 'Fuck' 'Fuck' ' Oh for Fucks Sake'

He keeps repeating the Fuck and is perfecting it.

I have to try and tell him 'No' when he starts but now its just turned to 'Fucks Sake....NO' 'Fuck...No' 'Fuck'


So to keep in line with the QOTW we are being verbally attacked by our parrot.
(never-right -getting it wrong since '78, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:10, Reply)

Poo, wasps, piranhas and alligators
Well - if the mods can pearoast the question, I can pearoast an answer

My school saw it fit to try to kill the sixth-form in interesting ways; so it was that, in the summer of 1995, just after my A-Levels, I found myself a member of a month-long expedition to Ecuador.

In the course of the expedition, we spent most of our time in the various parts of the country's highlands - but we also spent a week in the jungle. For several blissful days, we lived in tents in a clearing by a lake in primary jungle. We built balsa rafts and went fishing for piranha, daring each other to dangle our feet over the side as we threw in bits of raw meat as bait. We were more careful near the alligators.

This being primary jungle, there was no loo. (I can't remember what we did for drinking water.) Excretory requirements were met by nipping into the forest with a shovel and finding a convenient bush.

Caught by the need to poo, I wandered off in search of the perfect place - and, I believed, found it. A vine or branch had grown towards the ground from about waist height; all I had to do was locate a convenient spot along the hypoteneuse where the bough was at the correct elevation, and to sit. None of that undignified and poorly-balanced squatting for me.

We had been told that we ought to dig ourselves a little pit before performing, the easier to cover our filth in the aftermath. I must have been a bit needy, because I decided to shit first and worry about burial later.

How was I to know that the local wasps had chosen to build their nest in the drop-zone?

"What the...?" I blurted as I realised that there was a large delegation from the local insect neighbourhood watch who wanted a stern word with my behind. "Oh, fuck."

I tried to bat them away, but they were having none of it, and they were now buzzing angrily all around me.

Through the trees, I spotted the glint of the small lake next to which we were camped. There was only one thing to do: outrun the wasps. I half-ran, half stumbled towards the shore, pulling my shorts up as I went.

But the wasps were determined and athletic. They kept pace - and now their blood was up. In my mind they wore little insect red jackets, blew little insect horns and had packs of little insect dogs in pursuit. What was I to do now? There was only one option. I jumped into the water.

The water, you'll remember, that was home to piranhas and alligators.

Fortunately for me, piranhas apparently only get blood-lust at certain times of the year (which is why our fishing only yielded one or two), and they largely ignored me. I can't explain why the alligators ignored me too. A sense of pity, perhaps. I thanked them quietly when I saw them later.

I climbed out of the lake and wandered back into the jungle to find the shovel...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:08, 13 replies)

I can see this question quickly becoming an animal wrongess archive...
So here's mine, and I still remember it as if it was only yesterday.

I used to live with my dad and step mother a few years back, my relationship with my step mother wasn't as strong as it could have been and my welcome was becoming quite thin. So I was trying to lie low, do as I was told, not upset anyone by expressing any true feelings and all that (will come clear later) Anyway... My steph mother loves dogs, not just any old dogs, massive smelly dogs, anything but small clean cute things.

One of the dogs would turn into a psychopath the second it saw anything small and fluffy, namely squirrels, rabbits, and his favourite, cats.

One night I'm sitting at my PC doing something vitally important, like creating some program to automatically download porn, when all of a sudden the dogs leg it outside all at once, so that's 5 big smelly balls of fluff, all heading for the same door, at the same time, barking like it's 1999. I just ignore them and carry on my duties but my step mother hurtles past shouting after one of the dogs, the one that loves teh fluffies.

The barking and shouting continues for a few minutes (bare in mind it's like 11pm), until she returns with the little psychopath by the collar saying that he had got a cat and that she thought it was still out there. Horrified by this I thought it best that I went out there to make sure the little bastard was okay.

I found it lying on it's back with it's intestines hanging out, not too nice, it looked scared shitless as you could imagine. I went back inside and said that I would take it down to the vets and hopefully they could poke it's suassages back in. My dad and step mother didn't think this would be a good idea as it could mean the end of the bitey dog that done the foul deed (that's Karma imo.). Being in the position I was, I couldn't argue with it and my dad said he would put it down, so I grabbed a knife and we both went outside.

My dad didn't think that the knife approach was a good idea, instead he decided to settle for the "stoving the animals head in with a huge metal pole" method, something which I wasn't paricuarly familiar with, and nor did I agree with. This was not good...

I stood back in horror as my dad persisted in attempting to put this cat out of it's "missery" for about 5 minutes until it finally died.

Quite frankly the nastiest thing I've ever watched and still feel bad about it now, but what could I do right?

...

Did I say I actually prefer cats?
( Firkinfedup last shat on your wife's tits at, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:08, 4 replies)

Cat Wank
Dunno if this counts as an attack... but the mental scars are deep.

My cat jumped on my bed the other week whilst I was having a wank, at the EXACT MOMENT of ejaculation.

I don't know who was the most shocked.

But I was the most ashamed.

Dktr S
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:06, 2 replies)

4th QOTW repeat.
GET A FUCKING GRIP.


Here people... have a read of what was said LAST TIME this identically titled QOTW was put up.

b3ta.com/questions/animalsattack/
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:06, 1 reply)

bindun?
I've got a killer pussy.

*strokes it*
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 24 Apr 2008, 15:06, 8 replies)