Pet StoriesWhen 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.
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chthonic, Fri 8 Jun 2007, 9:15)
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Bad boy TomNeither of my cats have ever accepted that they are, indeed, cats. Cute and fluffy they may be, but stereotypical cat behaviour? How boring and unoriginal.
Tommy's problem seemed to be related to a slight lack of inhibition when it came to his manly ways. He was shot in the head as a youth by kids playing with BB guns, and that seemed to signal the end of his interest in playing with cat toys or chasing small rodents and birds. Tommy would come home, sometimes after days away, covered in blood (often clearly not his own), mud, grass stains, oil, paint, you name it, and he would stay that way for weeks on end. He never cleaned, and wasn't big on sleeping much either. So, what did he do with his time? Fight. That's all life was about for our Tom. There was nothing he wouldn't challenge, and no-one he feared. You'd regularly hear foxes screaming out the back, and smile, knowing that Tommy was beating them in a fight again. It was only when I went to put the rubbish out one night that I caught a fox trying to run off down the alley, blood gushing from his neck, and three other foxes watching from a distance, and I realised just how hard Tom was. He was still hanging from the fox's neck by his jaws, trying to use his back feet as a brake.
I have to say, I always admired Tommy for his cunning and bravery, until the time I went to investigate his frenzied growling and caught him chasing a JCB down the street.
(, Sat 9 Jun 2007, 19:41, Reply)
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