Rainbow Lorikeet called Jack
My father-in-law breeds Lorikeets as a hobby and as of now has nearly twenty breeding pairs, this is all great as he hand rears most of the brids and whenever I visit I enjoy helping out.

It all started around seven years ago with a single Rainbow Lorikeet called Jack. Jack was the first hand reared bird my father-in-law bred and instead of being an indoor bird he got a enclosure outside in the fresh air.

Over time Jack has amassed quite a vocablary thanks to hearing things shouted in the back garden and around the farm. Indeed many people just go and talk to him because you're almost certain to get a funny comment out of him.

My father-in-laws sister, one day she is out in the back garden and heard Jack mumbling to himself. So she goes over to his enclosure and asks him what he is saying. To which his reply, in a near perfect copy of my english accent, was "bugger off". I of course had to take the blame for this as "bugger" is something I've been known to utter when I'm working around the farm and i've broken something I shouldn't have. Still I don't know where the "off" came from as I've never uttered bugger off at the in-laws.
(TheFairyClinkerBell, Thu 14 Jun 2007, 1:49, Reply)

My Cat Molly
Is so timid she brings in dead leaves instead of animals. The other 2 cats do that for her.

She also squeaks very quietly and is known for disappearing whenever someone makes a loud noise (cough/sneeze/pone ring/loud noise on TV. etc)
( Crap Little Monkey Deathstar, so good they built it twice, Thu 14 Jun 2007, 1:29, Reply)

Hammibal Lecter
As a child I had two Russian Dwarf hamsters. I named them Dwain Dibley and Dangerous Brian. Fluffy hamsters are cute and bring joy to your life until you get home one day to see one them nibbling away merrily on what you only naturally assume to be food.

On closer inspection you see what it is nibbling on and don't think they're quite so cute any more. That's because Dwain Dibley was nibbling on the carcass of Dangerous Brian and has completely stripped it of it's flesh...
(TheFlyingGerbil I have an alibi for, Thu 14 Jun 2007, 0:55, Reply)

Bubbles the cat, and Patches the guinea pig.
Are just two of the many pets I've had,and will tell you about.

This won't be long,but what the hell.

Anyway, Bubbles is a gorgeous tabby- although he does have a large head. He's a wonderful fella,bless him,although he is prone to bouts of complete and utter stupidity.

One such tale goes thusly: 'Twas a dark and stormy Sunday, and the folks and I were settling down with a mug of cocoa to watch that lovely John Craven on Countryfile. We're sipping away, watching with wonder at the green and pleasantness on our television,when we're suddenly made aware of a movement in the corner of the room. We look over to see Bubbles,very proudly sitting on top of a gurt big blackbird. A blackbird which was very much alive,and intent on making a bid for freedom- however, it just ended up flapping 'round the front room, screeching like a harpy.

My second story concerns one of my ex-guinea pigs- a lovely little guy called Pathces, so called because of the multi-coloured patches of fur. Anyway, it was the day I'd brought him home,and he was extremely twitchy and skittish. He was settled in the crook of my arm- although only just. Anyway, I was sat in the conservatory with him,and I took my hand away to scratch my nose.Big mistake. With no warning at all,the furry devil leapt out of my arms,ran helter-skelter across the floor,and ran behind the boiler. Took us three sodding hours to get him out.

Please be gentle- it's my first post.
(BornToBeBemused was born,feeling bemused,on, Thu 14 Jun 2007, 0:34, Reply)

Cats etc. etc.
My neighbours have a great cat - it does wonderful tricks - its shites in my vegatable patch - its shites on my decking and it shites on my patio.

I had a couple of beers tonight and whilst making my (tuna) sandwiches for the morrow I spied the ickle cutie in the middle of my garden - opening the back door - I coo'od him in - the smell of tuna no doubt helping - whilst under the cover of my shed - I gripped the cunt by its collar and smashed its head in with one of the house bricks we keep for no apparent reason next to the back gate.

It made no sound as I stove its fucking head in and was quite dead as I threw the fucker back over the fencing.

I write this with parts of brick dust and blood visable in my fingernails.

I'd also like to say that I didn't just kill the cat so I had a story to post - the fucker had it coming anyway - this just brought it forward a tad.
(devasa, Thu 14 Jun 2007, 0:33, Reply)

Very weird cat.
My mum used to have a cat named Oscar. Oscar was a bit pecliuar in the head and a very picky eater.

If he was given a sardine or a herring he would eat the whole fish, with bones and everything, but leave the fish eyes on the plate.

Two times per year (birthday and christmas)my mum gave Oscar a piece of princess cake, a rather nice cake covered with green marzipan. Oscar always removed the layer of marzipan with his claws, put it on the side of the plate and saved it for later. We still don't know if he did this because he wanted to get straight to the cakes yummy inside, or if he did it because he loved the marzipan and wanted to make it last longer.
(Saratron, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 23:39, Reply)

Otto the doggy likes to trip people
people on bikes, lawnmowers and in cars. the little guy can hit about 30mph chasing us down the driveway.

loves it

proof:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0s8G-HgTmgg
( Krog3r has acquired some deceant lurkage, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 22:21, Reply)

Irresponsible Animal Owners? Anyone? Anyone?
I find it really disturbing that so many people on this board have had animals hit by cars. I don't know what it's like in other countries, but most cities here in Canada have laws that you have to be in charge of your pets at all times: this means you can't let your cats run around the neighbourhood harming other animals, crapping in other gardens, getting run over by cars, etc. Often, it's not the fault of the driver if your pet gets run over, it's yours for letting them run about in the first place, so take some responsibility. It's sad when it happens, no doubt at all, but man, have some common sense.

I know this isn't truly on topic, but I think it needs to be said.
(BlackArmadillo Avoided writing that article on, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 22:12, Reply)

Headless Frog
My old Ginger Tom (RIP) went through a stage for about a year where he would bring in these huge frogs and very cleanly decapitate them.

I can only assume that he ate the heads as the frog would be sitting in the hallway perfectly normal looking, except headless, with the head nowhere to be found.

This would happen every 2 or 3 weeks for a year. I should have called him "Don" Ginger.
( Snollock Biffer I don't really sniff Bollocks, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 21:59, Reply)

Our menagerie
First came the spiffy goldfish and the twin hamsters. Once the evil one died, the nice one buried her by pulling all her toys over her dead sister. The goldfish also died, several times each.

Them my sister got the rabbit. He arrived hiding in his box. He started off as Poppy but became Pumpkin when we realised he was humping our feet. As he grew he became like a loveable dog, thumping his feet when he saw us coming home, running up to play with our feet, licking our necks when we picked him up and snuggling his nose up to ours in his way of hugging. He'd nibble our flowers, happily go for walks in his lead, come on holidays and sneakily pee on our beds.

He died a few days before christmas and my sister was devastated, as were we all. He wasn't just a pet. It turns out he'd been in pain for a wee while without ever letting on, the brave wee soul.

There was also the Hamster who came, scampered, and passed away during Pumpkin's life. She arrived in her box with her nose stuck in the air hole from trying to investigate the lovely new smells. Daisy was adorable, like a little mummy but small and cute and fluffy. She never bit unless you tasted of peanut butter, adored chocolate fingers and got a wee bit chubby. She had some sort of fit, but she was an old lady. My mum was devastated this time as she'd adopted Daisy off my brother.

Now we've got my mad green budgie Roshi who came just before Daisy, still alive and biting our fingers. She arrived trying to get out of her box with ever means possible. But she slips up and shows she loves us every so often. Also strawberries which I found out today when I came back to find her beak completely pink. She'll try to fly, get exhausted after two feet, collapse on the floor and waddle about adventuring and nibbling your toes quite happily until she feels up to flying back to her mirror, which she feeds.

I'm after a little tortoise and a pair of lovebirds in my lifetime but the boyfriend is protesting as he wil have to live with them too.
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 21:56, Reply)

Huntin Wabbit...
So i'm happily watching tv one evening, and i hear the catflap open and shut. Not unusual as i have 2 cats. What we slightly more surprising was the massive dead rabbit i almost stepped on as i got up 10mins later to get a beer... Still not entirely sure how one of the little feline buggers managed to fit themselves and the rabbit through the cat flap, and managed it so stealthily...

The fluffy little maniacs also went through a phase of bringing in moles, which close up are some of the most fugliest creatures i've every seen... Especially at 7am on a monday morning, with their entrails spread across the lounge floor.
( daveydje is hedging his hogs on, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 21:06, Reply)

Pets
My mate had a rabbit that didn't last long - it commited suicide within a day or so by failing to properly execute a backflip and landing on his spine. Woops. He also had a couple mice that weren't actually both boys - they then split the litter so they thought they were with mum - the dad ate the kids shortly afterwards as mum watched from the other cage.

As for my pets, I currently have two cats and three dogs. The two cats live upstairs, entering and exiting the house by means of a wooden ramp my dad built, leading from the landing window to the garage roof below. They are, I swear, the laziest cats I have ever known.

As for the dogs, two scottish terriers and a crossbreed thing make for interesting viewing. Bruce, the male of the scottish terriers, has a habit of collecting underwear. We have no idea how he keeps finding all these socks, but he'll wander around the living room whining with said offending item in his mouth. My mum had to chase him around the garden once, as he went off with one of her bras.

Inka is the other scotty, slightly older but a rescue breeding bitch. She's nervous as anything but wags her tail manically at everything and sleeps on her back with all four paws resolutely in the air.

Hubba is the crossbreed, another rescue dog. Has a habit of trying to bite the stream of water from a hosepipe. Doesn't really work.

And an honourable mention to the deceased Sparkle, the small cat who decided a full grown pigeon was fair game, almost as big as he was. Fair play to the thing. Got run over a little while later :(
(Steg isn't drunk enough yet., Wed 13 Jun 2007, 21:05, Reply)

cat on a moped
When i was about 15 or so, me and some mates were always on the look out for spare moped parts (this is in france), and one wintery afternoon we'd heard that someone had tipped a load of junk near a forest, so we hopped on our bikes and went to have a look...

One mate was searching through a mound of metal, and me and another mate were just hanging around talking... and then we heard this little miaowing noise, we looked around for a bit and found a little blue bin liner, all done up with string (well, that orange plastic string you get with bin liners)... and sure enough, inside were two tiny kittens.
We couldn't believe it, how can people be such bastards, leaving two of these things to die in a bin liner in the middle of nowhere?

So, we get one each, and shove these tiny things in our jackets, which we did up tightly... then drove the 5 kilometres back to our parents houses. Not an easy feat I must admit, I could feel this kitten crawling all over me, trying to climb down my arms and stuff.

Once at home, my mum freaked out, obviously, we already had two dogs, a duck and a dopey siamese cat wandering around the house, "this isn't noah's ark...", all that stuff, so we wait for her to come down off the ceiling and we try to feed this little thing, and after a while it takes to sucking on the (neutered) red setter's nipples, who doesn't mind a bit for some reason, it just sits there.

So eventually the cat gets bigger, stronger, VERY cocky... it looked like this:



Eventually it died last year aged... 18.

After having killed a lot of small animals, tormented a few small dogs, and generally behaving and vaguely looking like a gremlin.

RIP my furry friend

alan, reporting from Paris.
(Alaning, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 21:04, Reply)

Inspiring things a family member has done.
My aunt has just been diagnosed with MS, and she's started up a charity shop in the middle of nottingham.

Its admirable. Truly a remarkable thing to do.
(creem all over your face, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 20:52, Reply)

Confused doggy incest
Now my dearest pooch Molly died recently, damn dog, anyway, when reflecting on the joys she'd brought me throughout her life, such as loving the smell of a dead seagull carcass so much, she couldn't help but role her soft and fluffy fur in it.

Anyway, the memory that sticks in mind the most involves her brother Max, who lived with my Aunty round the corner. Molly and Max were thick as thieves when kids, always up to no good, chasing cats, crapping in the neighbour’s garden, and of course in their teens, sexual experimentation came along.

Much to my aghast, one day I cam home to find them at it in the garden... "Max, get off..." I started to shout before I realised poor Max was being taken, well, doggy style by Molly. And Molly was female. Ah the look of shame on Max's face will stay with me forever.

Good old Molly, weird but lovely dog.

Be gentle, it's my first time
(CornishStanley can't post hyperlinks, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 20:47, Reply)

two dogs and a duck
yep, we used to have a cat as well, but these pictures are probably worth a long story:




(Alaning, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 20:44, Reply)

sick puppy
I love my Jack Russell, but he's a bit nuts. Not only does he like to hump his cushion and look you right in the eye as he's doing it, but he likes to eat poo. Once, he ate some poo, puked it up, then ate again. Sick, bad puppy how I love you.
(badfox1 wonders who he's played by this episode on, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 20:43, Reply)

Clamped
I've decided I can't let this QOTW pass without sharing my own little story. One of many, to be honest...

About 10 years ago, which would make me about 15, I had a cat - still a very young kitten at that stage, which is probably sheds some light on her motives - who subjected me to the most excruciating pain I've ever known.

There I am, lying on the sofa on a Satuday afternoon when I start drifting off. Just as I shut my eyes, I felt the cat land on my stomach. Fair enough, furry little animal will keep me warm.

Shortly afterwards, I woke up with a start. Small cat had climbed UNDER my T-shirt and (feeling hungry) clamped itself to MY RIGHT NIPPLE!

For the record, I am a bloke. I have never lactated.

After a 2 minute struggle I finally managed to remove cat without losing said body part...

It's fair to say I don't let pets near me while I sleep these days!
(Home Bargains was last seen wanking like a safari park chimp:, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 20:12, Reply)

A mate with a Japanese Fighting Snake.
This was about 10 years ago; I call over his flat and his dad is there visiting also. In the living room there is a snake tank, and Jason and his dad Colin are standing next to it.

"Do us a favour Jeccy, can you hold my new snake while I clean the tank out?"

"Not really, no" was my first answer, but regardless to this the snake to pretty much thrown at me. The little brown cunt of a creature, it notices me and starts heading towards my face. I hold the snake back, but it keeps heading for me.
"Err, Jas, he's going for me."
"No he's not. He's just been fed." was the reply. But still this little fecker's heading towards me. He's fully stretched out now and almost at my nose.
"Take it before I throw it." says I. Jason and Colin laugh, and call me a coward/chicken etc. Jason takes the snake off me and looks at me while calling me a girl. Big mistake. As soon as he took his eyes away from it the fucker spun around and dug his teeth through the flap of skin between his thumb and forefinger. Cue Colin's dad smiling and saying "See, told you he's been fed Jeccy."

Jason screamed like a little girl for about a minute, hahahahahha that'll learn 'im :D
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:52, Reply)

Fish+Fairy Liquid= DEATH!
Many years ago when i was younger, i was given the opportunity to clean the fish bowl, coz they were my responsibility, unfortunatly, my dad didn't mention that you shouldn't use fairy liquid, but i did anyhoo, turns out that even though i rinsed the bowl out properly, all my fish died within five minutes of being put in the bowl. not a pretty site for my little sister who was screaming and crying at seeing the fish just suddenly float to the top vertically!!! :S

Also, i had a very randy pet rabbit called snowy, he managed to break free and put the neighbours rabbit up the duff 3 times!!! the things they do for sex.
(Squid83, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:51, Reply)

Jasper the Cow... in technicolour
After being flooded with literally ONE request for a picture of the lovely cow Jasper, here ya go.



And if you feel bad that this cow with a hole in his heart was saved from death days after birth to be raised to become several hamburgers, click I Like This on this qotw b3ta post and not here.
( djtrialprice, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:49, Reply)

mac and bob
mac - aka mcqueen. named after his insistence as a kitten to get the hell out of the house through any means possible, including stowing away in a shopping bag (until we heard the mewing in the boot).
as soon as he got out, he a-started the killin'. anything you can think of, we've had it skinned and left in the kitchen. despite the bipolar disorder, he is a great cat, is still with us, and has the uncanny knack of being so friendly and laidback that he has converted many people to liking cats.
bob - aka bobafet (my brother named him). polar opposite of his brother. as mac moved further up the killing ranks, bob brought in worms, bugs, then elastic bands. but he was a truly lovely cat. a bit nervous, but terribly affectionate, but he hated my dad and the feeling was mutual. the rest of us loved him, but, again, some tosser in a car.
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:46, Reply)

harley
we went to the wrong cat shelter, and ended up taking a cat home who was very, very ill. however, we chose him because when his cage was opened he bounded onto me and my dad, emitting the most fantastically loud, gutteral purr. he survived his illness, and was called harley for obvious reasons.
problem was, he was so happy to be here. he was obviously conscious of what a near-miss he had, and as a result had been through some kind of epiphany, believing all living creatures were amazing and he owed them all so much. this involved sitting in the garden as birds, mice and frogs hopped around him as he sat happily watching them and purring, and by sitting in the road to wait for passing humans who he thought were just FAB.
then some bastard ran him over.
we were all devistated. great cat.
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:40, Reply)

benny and gracey
They were picked out of the litter by my parents, because benny kept jumping, and gracey sauntered away from the other kittens, sat on the balcony and looked very louche.
benny - great cat, lived to be 18, got very fat with a strange fetish for peeing in corners by the end. However, he hated sitting on laps. This is due to him trying to sit on my gran's as a kitten, she jumped up (not being a cat fan), causing him to fly out of a second story window.
gracey - was perfectly happy in our house until my newborn brother was brought back from the hospital, where she took one look at him, thought 'f*** that', grabbed her spotty handkerchief (really, truly, it was her blanket) and moved in with the old lady down the road. there's another story there, but it's not as quick to tell...
(niceandwarmandhot vive la résistance, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 19:35, Reply)

Jack Russell terriers...
Oddly enough, I also call Adventure Ears "Retardo", and have seen her try to eat cat poo before the cat was quite done shitting.

My girlfriend laughed like hell when I looked at the dog and said, in my best Voice of Doom, "You vile little creature."

Does yours try to fist you in the night as well?
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 13 Jun 2007, 18:45, Reply)

retardo the jack russell...
...as we lovingly call him is our 6month old dog. he is truly the most rank creature ever to bless gods green 'un.
not only does he eat poo, he eats it directly from the arse holes of other dogs like it was a mister whipy machine...


well.. some like it hot.
(squireface, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 18:06, Reply)

Birds Woes
I always had budgies as a kid, and they were great. We had Skippy, which we thought was a boy but then started to lay eggs, then Peter, which we inherited from my Granddad who died and was a bit boring (the budgie, non my Granddad), then Bluey, who was fucking ace, total nut-case, had a massive vocabulary, once told my dad's posh mate to "Piss Off!" and lived until he was 21.

As I passed into adulthood and got married I eventually continued this tradition, but we had no luck for ages.

We had two budgies, Jake and Elwood (they were blue, and brothers) who were dead fucking boring and did fuck all else except sit at the top of their cage all day. We gave them away to an aviary.


We had a cockatiel, named Colin (even though a female), who was as miserable as sin, only took any notice off you if it wanted food and liked to eat its own shit. She escaped about a year ago and hasn't been seen since. We weep not.

We had a budgie called Fudgie (named by my daughter) for two weeks, a lovely, bright, intelligent and mischievous thing who escaped from its cage once when we were out and the cat ate its head.

We had a Golden-Mantle Rosella called Rosie with deformed feet who was another miserable-as-sin bird who did nothing all day except occassionally whistle. We gave it to a friend with an aviary and he is now as happy as larry, apparently, with a mate and everything.

We'd just about given up with birds but had one last throw of the dice and acquired an African Grey Parrot named Totoro. And he is fucking ace, apart from the shit everywhere. Massive vocabulary and scarily intelligent, and wickedly funny. Is a right clumsy fucker, several times he will miss his perch or bars of his cage, and will exclaim "Ow!" when he does so. Says "Ayup!" when you come in, "Seeya! Bye!" when you're going, and "Bed-time, Night night!" when it gets dark. Also when I play the guitar he tells me to "Shut up!" in a very disparaging manner. Ace bird, ace pet. He's currently on top of his cage pecking the fuck out of an empty can of Strongbow.
(SneakyPete, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 18:00, Reply)