About This Blog

This blog was originally started as a thread on the forum pages of an animal rescue site. Now it's here!

The articles you find in here are purely for entertainment (yours and mine) and (with one or two exceptions) are all tongue-in-cheek chronicles of the World (my bit, anyway) as I see it.
No disrespect is intended towards anyone unless I make a mistake and make it too obvious.

I hope you enjoy my offerings. Feedback and comments of any kind are welcome.


Showing posts with label Cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cat. Show all posts

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Cat v Dog

These days, now that Clover is on her own, she has her bed in our bedroom. She sleeps at the foot of our bed and snores.
You would be amazed at just how loud she can be!
She snorts and chainsaws her way through the night, sending decibel counters in the neighbouring county shooting off the scale.
 
How do you sleep, I hear you ask.
 
Well ... It's training. And having spent the past several years listening to my wife snort and grunt her way through the twilight hours, I'm very used to it!
 
Anyway, at 6 am the noise stops. It's time to get up and to let Clover out for her toilet.
This morning, as we made our way down the stairs, we were met by Blossom, the cat.
She evaded capture last night so wasn't, as per usual, put out to terrorise the neighbourhood.
At the foot of the stairs she did that cat thing ... crouching with her front paws trampling, back legs tensing ... and just as a very cautious Clover hit floor level, she pounced!
 
A left ... a right ...  a hiss!
 
Clover, surprised by the attack, pressed herself wide eyed against the wall. Blossom sat down and, looking incredibly smug, started to clean herself.
After the shock had abated, Clover began to circle around Blossom in an attempt to get to the back door. Blossom immediately stood, positioned herself directly in front of Clover, and with a withering look turned her back and sat down.
Dogs, as you probably know, have a fascination with bottoms.
So it will come as no surprise to you that as soon as Blossom's back was turned, Clover felt the need for a sniff.
She slowly stretched towards Blossom's derriere ... closer and closer ... ready to sniff.
A mere inch or two away from Blossom's bottom, Clover sneezed!
Blossom flew into the air, still seemingly in a sitting position. At the apex of her flight her legs extended, she rotated through 180°, whacked Clover smartly on the nose then, upon landing, raced headlong up the stairs.
Clover isn't the quickest of dogs.
Her reaction came several seconds after Blossom had scampered onto the upstairs landing.
She jumped, her eyes wide, and galloped down the hallway. When she reached the backdoor, she spun on the spot, whined and looked at the handle.
As I opened the door and let her out, she threw me a glance that quite clearly said 'You won't tell anyone, will you?'.

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

This Duck Is Dead

Got a busy day ahead of me so here is the duck tale from August 2010. Enjoy!

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon.
As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird’s chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."

The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet.

"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room.

He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever.

As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom.

He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room.

A few minutes later he returned with a cat.

The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."

The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman.

The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "£150!" she cried, "£150 just to tell me my duck is dead!"

The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been £20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now £150."