Just a post about peoples pets!!!
Eowyn In all her Glory
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Considering all the drama of this past week, now is probably a good time to publish images of self-adjusting mouse traps and squirrel chasers.
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Agreed, I’m still waiting on @rugyada to post her pet in here
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I don’t have any photos, but bck in the late 1970s to the early/mid 1980s, I had this Burmese cat named Squiggles.
She was a true battle cat. There were grown men scared to go near her. I watched her fight off dogs and racoons. At school, they thought I had scabies because of all the scratches on my hand from playing/fighting with her. Had a tree in the yard with a big bough that she used to loaf on. She was there, sleeping, when the neighbour’s German Sheppard wandered into the yard. She spotted her, did her little hair-standing-up cat ninja dance, as the poor dog wandered under the tree, when she leapt down onto the poor doggy’s head. Once, I tied a noose to that bough, hung the cat (from under her front legs), and she struggled for bout 5 seconds, before she gave up and went to sleep. There she was, hangin’ from a noose, asleep. I was sitting in the yard, having a smoke, admiring my handiwork, when the phone rang. It was the neighbourhood Karen screaming at me to release the cat before she called the cops.
One guy I went to school with, who raised fighting pit-bulls was bragging about his dog. I bet him $20 that my cat could take on his dog. He brought his dog over, let him loose on my cat. Squiggles ran under my dad’s car, the dog stuck his head under the car to try to get her, and Squig proceeded to tear his face to ribbons. The ahole who owned the dog was pissed, but I made him pay me before telling him to eff off and get offa my property.
There are lots more stories about that legendary cat.
I loved that cat, and I miss her to this day.
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Another Squiggles story:
I was sitting in the basement (the place my parents relegated me to to listen to music), listening to some Sabbath, when Squig came in front of me and mewoed, loudly, a few times. I turned the music off.
She went up the stairs to the door to upstairs and mewoed, then came back and meowed at me. She repeated this a few times, meowing at me, then the door, then at me again, etc.
I figured she wanted out, to get past the door to upstairs, so I went up the stairs to let her out. I opened the door, and she was nowhere to be seen. Then I went back down to continue listening to music, and there she was, sitting on my chair, looking at my like I was some kinda chump. Damned cat conned my outta my chair!
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Some more Squiggles stories:
Soon after we first got her, when she was a wee kitten, she had gotten into the garbage and was eating a hot-dog wrapper. I guess she liked the smell and taste of the hot-dog juice. I didn’t want her eating plastic, so I stopped her from eating it. By the time I had gotten it away from her, I had one hand holding all of her legs, so she couldn’t claw at me anymore, she had her teeth sunk into the web of skin between my index finger and thumb of my other hand, and would not let go. I didn’t want to just wrench my hand away, hurting me more, and probably wrecking her teeth, so I had to go get my brother to open her mouth so I could extricate my hand. This when she was maybe 8-10 weeks old.
…then there were the June Bugs. Watching her prance around an leap into the air, catching them, and then the crunching of her eating them…then there were the squirrel offerings, where a dead, headless squirrel would appear on the porch, and slowly get devoured over 2-3 days. Our old house had squirrels in the walls that you could hear running about. One day, the chewed a hole into the living room, allowing Squig to get into the walls. Took maybe two days before there were no more squirrels in our walls.
Yet another story about that Cat:
I once threw her a dryer, on fluff, no heat.
I heard a couple of bangs of her getting beat up by the agitators, then silence. I gave it about 5 seconds, and opened the dryer door. She was running around in the dryer like it was a treadmill, jumping over the agitators, and she stayed there for another 5 seconds or so before jumping out. She did this in total darkness.
She was a true super-cat.
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I remember cooking bacon on the gas stove. Squig would run up my leg, hold onto me and reach into the pan to try to snag some bacon. I even let her get some a few times.
Once, Me, my brother, sister, mom and dad were sitting at the kitchen table to eat our supper: A pork chop each, some mashed potatoes and a cob of corn. Squiggles raced in outta nowhere, jumped onto the table, upset all our plates, sent stuff flyin’ onto the floor, and ran away out the back door. When we finished cleaning up the mess and taking stock, we found there was one pork chop missing. She Blitzkrieged us, and got away with what she was after. Stupid, slow humans!
She had over 100 kittens in her short, 8 year life, started a wee colony in the neighbourhood. Her kittens were extremely aggressive, but not in the same league.
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