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When one of my cats was younger and a lot fatter, he came bowling in from the garden with an almighty crash. Looking slightly stunned, he'd arrived into the kitchen having ripped the cat flap from the door and was still wearing it as a cat-tutu. Did I mention he was quite fat?

In honour of Jake, a well loved cat, who died on Wednesday, tell us your pet stories and cheer us up.

(, Fri 8 Jun 2007, 9:15)
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Cat-Flid
..no really, he was...he was one of those pure white ones who, by way of an unfortunate genetic problem, are usually profoundly deaf and in some cases 'retarded'- in this case extremely retarded.
When my mum got him as a kitten we realised we were going to have problems with him -
he dribbled constantly
he kept banging into walls
he kept burning his nose on the living room fire
not only was he a drooling clumsy idiot but he also would happily shit himself all day-usually in one of our beds- and had absolutely no concept of basic feline hygiene.
Things got a lot worse once he was old enough to go out into the wide world
Like all cats he had an ancient inbuilt instinct to climb-trouble was he had absolutely no sense of balance and nearly all his climbing excursions ended with him hanging precariously by one paw,turning slowly one way then back again, all the time drooling like the furry white feline simpleton he was.
As he became an Adult he graduated into sleeping under parked cars-which rendered his white fur constantly streaked with oil and mud -causing my mum to remark "That cat is FILTHY" and then into the ultimate idiocy that ultimately became his undoing- sleeping in the middle of the road outside our house . It was this that made me realise that the myth that Cats have nine lives was exactly that- a myth. He was run over four times in his 1st year with us, the first instance resulting in the highly amusing spectacle of him not only wearing one of those upturned lightshade stitch guards round his neck -but also in him having his back legs plastered and having a rather nifty set of wheels attached so that he could wheel himself around.
My mum-being a kind hearted soul, did her best to keep him out of harms way by confining him to the house but to no avail-he developed a way of climbing out through the smallest open window and it was this way that he met his end-squashed flat by a neighbour's Transit van.

So heres to Oscar,Cat-Flid and distressing pet 1993-1995
(, Wed 13 Jun 2007, 10:08, Reply)

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