Here’s Sparecat enjoying one of his favourite 1970s conspiracy theory films, Capricorn One. Next stop, The China Syndrome.
I just fed the cat a tasty chicken-based cat biscuit treat.
For my kindness, he sneezed over my hand.
So I’ve got some cat snot if anyone wants?
Salutations of great Christmas joy to you and yours. Get your free* e-cards here.
Edit for Mme Rostance’s sake, she’d have killed me had she seen it…
For the last few weeks and months I’ve had to put up with Sparecat bringing home mice and birds to play with.
The birds he kills and eats most of. The mice he leaves alive so they can run around my house, eat my stuff, play Wii, etc etc.
I have traps. Many, many traps. Oh yes.
I have 3 “lethal” SNAP-traps, and one “humane” when you go to let them out they’ve dehydrated/panicked/heart-attacked and died anyway trap.
The mouse Sparecat brought me last time turned out to be a canny wee bugger.
I set the LETHALEST trap with some chocolate on it: It stole the chocolate and escaped.
I set the LETHALEST trap on EXTRA SENSITIVE with some chocolate on it: it stole the chocolate and escaped.
I set the COMEDY BREATHE ON IT AND IT SNAPS trap with some peanut butter and Nutella, figuring it would have to interact with the trap mechanism to lick the luxury-but-deadly mixture. It licked the trapping mechansim and escaped.
I set the COMEDY BREATHE ON IT AND IT SNAPS trap with some doughnut put right at the back of the trapping mechanism. That was gone in 5 minutes: no kill.
Last night I set the HUMANE trap with Nutella and doughnut.
When I came down this morning, the trap was… gone.
Oh yes. Gone. There is nothing more spooky than a mousetrap suddenly not being where you left it. Especially one where the mouse is meant to be trapped inside and unable to interact with the outside world. A quick search of the kitchen and I found the trap under the kitchen chair on its side. A shake of the trap revealed there to be no mouse inside. However, an inspection of the insides revealed evidence that the mouse had previously been trapped.
The suspicion fell upon the cat. Oh yes I thought. Suddenly last night he had turned into kiddie on Christmas morning: I’d presented him with a fun present, neatly wrapped.
I figured the damned useless animal had let the mouse out and it was once more running free around my house. I even scalded him before his breakfast for looking so proud when I showed him the trap.
And then I went into the front room.
There, very neatly on the carpet, was a mouse-sized liver.
For the less keen-eyed of you, this:
is not Sparecat.
It is not a big cat, however, at 1:50am today, it filled my kitchen (mainly concentrating on the mat seen in the picture) entirely with shit.
Ever had to deal with cat shit at 2am? Big, stinky, get-up-20-minutes-later-to-spray-more-air-freshener quantities of cat shit? From a cat that doesn’t even belong to you?
I recommend it. Everyone should have the experience. My favourite bit was when I picked up a single sheet of kitchen roll with the intention of using it to clean up with, and then realising it would be a better bet to hire a mini-digger, or ditch the mat.
Mat donations can be made to the usual address.
“And the rain/It lashed down/And all the creatures/A’feared they would drown.”
Sparecat sorted himself out a nice new raincoat before venturing out into the darkness last night:
Kids! Never play with plastic bags and pets!
(For the logisticians among you, let’s examine that last caption, shall we? It should be understood as:
Kids! Never (play with plastic bags AND pets)
Kids! Never (play with plastic bags) AND (pets)
What a sad world it would be if the kiddies couldn’t play with some slavering German Shepherd/rottweiler eh?)
As I sit here at my WinXP laptop, I’m installing Fedora 7 on my previously-mentioned Dell E521 on a lovely, echoey, empty and pristine 500GB drive.
And, to add to this picture of bliss, my lovely Sparecat is sitting ‘pon my lap. However, every tale has a sting in it, and this one is that my feline companion has the wind.