I have absolutely no idea how your cat got lung cancer...really...
April 15th 2008 11:30
Next door neighbour's cat is a rather strange feline indeed.
Though I've almost (unintentionally) crushed it's little furry head as it's darted between my legs, thrown it out of my washing basked whilst it lay on top of my wet clothes and unceremoniously hauled it's stripey ass out my house as it's grasped the minute, fleeting opportunity with both paws to fly through the open back door it still really..
really..
likes me.
At least once a day it will meow folornly at the back door whilst my son gets down on his hands and knees, looking at it through the safety of the glass sliding door and loudly pronouncing that "the little cat is looking gorgeous" with a somewhat terrified look on his face.
The only real problem I have with this moggie besides the fact it tends to jump over the fence and scare the fucking shit out of me as I dump the rubbish into the wheelie bin late as night is that I think it's a closet smoker.
Besides my venturing outside to hang out the washing and drive the kids here, there and bloody everywhere and thus fullfil my duties as unpaid house slave and free, cranky taxi driver I will occasionally step outside to light up.
As I sprawl about on the seat sucking on tobacco and 69 different chemical thinking about, well...life, the little cat that's looking gorgous squeezes past me, sits in my lap, rubs against my hand like a masseur who doesn't know when to stop and purrs contentedly like the cat that did indeed get the cream (and probably the double cream at that) whilst my second hand ciggarette smoke with it's 4000 chemicals envelopes it like a thick cloud.
Though I tell it it's a vewwy, vewwy naughty puddy tatt and smoking is vewwy, vewwy bad it just looks at me with the highly amused expression one would expect when an adult talks like Elmer Fudd.
I can only conclude from this that it's either a cat which is rather partial to ciggie smoke or in a past life was a slightly neurotic, mostly frazzled woman with problems that were mainly created by her good self who needs a fag every now and then to escape the house, work and sometimes even her own mind.
I'm going with the later....
Though I've almost (unintentionally) crushed it's little furry head as it's darted between my legs, thrown it out of my washing basked whilst it lay on top of my wet clothes and unceremoniously hauled it's stripey ass out my house as it's grasped the minute, fleeting opportunity with both paws to fly through the open back door it still really..
really..
likes me.
At least once a day it will meow folornly at the back door whilst my son gets down on his hands and knees, looking at it through the safety of the glass sliding door and loudly pronouncing that "the little cat is looking gorgeous" with a somewhat terrified look on his face.
The only real problem I have with this moggie besides the fact it tends to jump over the fence and scare the fucking shit out of me as I dump the rubbish into the wheelie bin late as night is that I think it's a closet smoker.
Besides my venturing outside to hang out the washing and drive the kids here, there and bloody everywhere and thus fullfil my duties as unpaid house slave and free, cranky taxi driver I will occasionally step outside to light up.
As I sprawl about on the seat sucking on tobacco and 69 different chemical thinking about, well...life, the little cat that's looking gorgous squeezes past me, sits in my lap, rubs against my hand like a masseur who doesn't know when to stop and purrs contentedly like the cat that did indeed get the cream (and probably the double cream at that) whilst my second hand ciggarette smoke with it's 4000 chemicals envelopes it like a thick cloud.
Though I tell it it's a vewwy, vewwy naughty puddy tatt and smoking is vewwy, vewwy bad it just looks at me with the highly amused expression one would expect when an adult talks like Elmer Fudd.
I can only conclude from this that it's either a cat which is rather partial to ciggie smoke or in a past life was a slightly neurotic, mostly frazzled woman with problems that were mainly created by her good self who needs a fag every now and then to escape the house, work and sometimes even her own mind.
I'm going with the later....
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Comment by Jill Browne
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funny post.
cats have nine lives, right?
jill
Comment by Anna Kovacevic
So who are you anyway?
Comment by AmyHuang
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Perhaps put a quit smoking patch on it?
Comment by Damo
It ate out baby rabbit and I am looking for the most appropriate punishment for it.
Death by passive smoke seems to fit the bill.
Comment by Jarrah
Back to the Eighties
Whenever my Dad comes over, she will have a swipe at his lit smoke.
I dunno if she hates it or wants it.
Back to the Eighties
www.backtotheeighties.net
Comment by Joanne Fedler
Jo
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Comment by Lilla
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A wonderful read and a hearty chuckle too... thanks for the laugh and well written images your post evoked.
You have a great companion there!
Lilla ...
Comment by Anna Kovacevic
So who are you anyway?
Damo, the thousands of chemicals in second hand smoke is a great punishment but if that doesn't suffice get a death squad of other rabbits to go after it...
Jarrah - put a fag in her mouth and see if she draws back.
Thanks Joanne
Cheryl - A drink and a smoke are very loving partners...
Thanks Lilla, my son is right - the cat is truly gorgeous..