Seeing the first cat turd in a new liter box is almost as exciting as discovering your newborn’s first poopie in their diaper.
When the cat starts howling in warning that it is going to wretch then starts doing the whole gag while turning its body into a slinky thing on your couch, wrestling with it will not stop the hair ball from coming and once you dig the claws out of the couch holding the cat at shoulder height will only result in an Andy Warholish splatter paint of horribleness on the living room floor…saved the couch though.
Dad: "Noah come here for an important PSA."
Dad: "Curiosity killed the cat. Satisfaction brought him back. But only in a fable. In real life, cats don’t come back."
Dad: "But the cat came back for it wouldn’t stay away."
Dad: "Well, he came back in a song. But not real life."
Dad: "So, the cat has taken to climbing into the dryer."
Dad: "And if you ran the dryer with the cat in it you know what that would mean?"
Dad: "It would mean that our furniture wouldn’t get further scratched up."
Dad: "All joking aside."
Dad: "It would be bad to run the dryer with the cat in it."
Dad: "Because it is really difficult to get the smell of cooked cat out of cotton."
Wife: "May I buy kitten food?"
Me: "If I say no, will it go away faster?"
Apparently, that was not the correct answer.
Tommy: "We need a kitten."
Me: "No we don’t."
Tommy: "I’ll take good care of it."
Me: "When you have your own place to live, you can have a kitten."
Cathy: "If you clean the litter box for our cat every day for one month, you can have a kitten."
Me: "Make it six months."
Cathy: "One month."
Me: "I don’t want another cat!"
12 days later, Tommy: "12 days and I’ve cleaned the litter box every day."
I think I have roughly 18 days to build Tommy a small apartment near Amy’s clubhouse.
I cannot improve upon Cathy’s Pulitzer Prize worthy post. Do read!
Exactly how many animals can I bury in my yard before I have to get licensed as a pet cemetery?
My morning duty today is to cook bacon and clean mouse guts off a large stick that up until this week I would have called sterile. See, the pet shop didn’t have any small rats. Only very large "small" rats so we decided to buy two large mice instead. Either the snake didn’t see or smell the second rotting mouse or he just wasn’t that hungry. And we forgot to check on it. So a couple of days later, the lump of gooey fur became my problem. I have to go flip the bacon now and find a toothbrush I want to forever sacrifice. Enjoy brunch!
Visitor: Mrs. Frisby – 2
Home: Me – 1
Game over. I win.
Dharma, I know you are a dog and I recognize that your brain may have a short circuit or two so let spell this out for you. Pooping in the walking path is not allowed! You are very funny and obviously have figured my gait out perfectly because your landmines are batting 1000. See if your doggie mind can read my human mind because the mental image I have right now is of a cold, outdoor kennel. Molly knows where to poop in this yard. Follow her!
Evan, I know you are four years old…four and a half to be fair…and the antique, crank out windows in this house have a particularly rewarding feeling to their almost steampunk mechanical opening action. However, when the temperatures at night are dropping to -1.6°C*, sleeping with the window open is inadvisable and does not lend to a friendly electric bill. If this behavior continues, I will have to increase your rent to offset the cost of heating this house. Oh, and you may catch a cold.
*Temperature conversion provided by Onlineconversion.com.
We belled our cat. It worked! While she had her bells, nothing died. Then she got the collar off. Today’s offering–a field mouse.
I only ask whether or not you can breed a dog with a cat because my dog swears she is on the wrong side of the door.
There was a R.O.U.S. on the stoop this morning. She’s either been to the Fire Swamp or Oak Ridge. Apparently the massive amount of rain we are experiencing has made hunting mice easier for the cat.