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#1
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
I left the front door in a hurry this a.m. and went flying down the
porch step without really looking where I was going. What I did not see was a huge rat that had been obviously left for my approval. I stepped square on it. No, I didn't just step on it. I SLID on it. I felt a crunch, then a pop, and I'll just shut up there. And I wasn't even wearing real shoes, just flip-flops. It was Frank and Boots, undoubtedly. It had certain parts missing, and that's the signature to their work. So I am in the yard squealing and dancing like a six-year-old girl, which totally terrified F&B such that they immediately scurried off. I felt kinda bad about that. I mean, they went to all that trouble, and that's not the kind of praise they were looking for. So my plans tomorrow are to find a male to scoop up the remains and dispose of them. At this house, that falls under "man job" descriptions.I am such a wussy. But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. Sherry Sherry |
#2
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
Sherry wrote:
But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. OMG - that's like slipping on a banana peel, except less vegetarian! |
#3
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
"Sherry" wrote in message
... I left the front door in a hurry this a.m. and went flying down the porch step without really looking where I was going. What I did not see was a huge rat that had been obviously left for my approval. I stepped square on it. No, I didn't just step on it. I SLID on it. I felt a crunch, then a pop, and I'll just shut up there. And I wasn't even wearing real shoes, just flip-flops. It was Frank and Boots, undoubtedly. It had certain parts missing, and that's the signature to their work. So I am in the yard squealing and dancing like a six-year-old girl, which totally terrified F&B such that they immediately scurried off. I felt kinda bad about that. I mean, they went to all that trouble, and that's not the kind of praise they were looking for. So my plans tomorrow are to find a male to scoop up the remains and dispose of them. At this house, that falls under "man job" descriptions.I am such a wussy. But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. Sherry It would traumatize me, too. In all the years I had indoor-outdoor cats, some of which were hunters, I never was unlucky enough to step on a corpse. Joy |
#4
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
"Sherry" wrote in message
... I left the front door in a hurry this a.m. and went flying down the porch step without really looking where I was going. What I did not see was a huge rat that had been obviously left for my approval. I stepped square on it. No, I didn't just step on it. I SLID on it. I felt a crunch, then a pop, and I'll just shut up there. And I wasn't even wearing real shoes, just flip-flops. It was Frank and Boots, undoubtedly. It had certain parts missing, and that's the signature to their work. So I am in the yard squealing and dancing like a six-year-old girl, which totally terrified F&B such that they immediately scurried off. I felt kinda bad about that. I mean, they went to all that trouble, and that's not the kind of praise they were looking for. So my plans tomorrow are to find a male to scoop up the remains and dispose of them. At this house, that falls under "man job" descriptions.I am such a wussy. But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. Sherry Sounds like a real nightmare! shudder I do not envy you that experience, Sherry. One thing Persia will never be is a mouser (or a ratter). She's afraid of mice! One morning in my apartment in TN I got up and went to the kitchen. Persia *refused* to go in there. She always followed me (often led me) into the kitchen because that's where her food was stashed. What's wrong, girl? I turned on the light. Oh! There was a dead mouse on the kitchen floor. She wouldn't go anywhere near the kitchen until I disposed of the corpse. Fortunately I didn't slip and slide on it. Ugh. Jill |
#5
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
On Jun 2, 11:48*pm, Sherry wrote:
I left the front door in a hurry this a.m. and went flying down the porch step without really looking where I was going. What I did not see was a huge rat that had been obviously left for my approval. I stepped square on it. No, I didn't just step on it. I SLID on it. I felt a crunch, then a pop, and I'll just shut up there. And I wasn't even wearing real shoes, just flip-flops. It was Frank and Boots, undoubtedly. It had certain parts missing, and that's the signature to their work. So I am in the yard squealing and dancing like a six-year-old girl, which totally terrified F&B such that they immediately scurried off. I felt kinda bad about that. I mean, they went to all that trouble, and that's not the kind of praise they were looking for. So my plans tomorrow are to find a male to scoop up the remains and dispose of them. At this house, that falls under "man job" descriptions.I am such a wussy. But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. Sherry Sherry I did this exact same thing several weeks ago. Lunatic is an indoor outdoor cat. I've tried many times to bring her in on a permanent basis. The silver darts every time the door opens and intense catterwauling eventually drives us all wild. Every morning she appears with another mole or rat on the back door mat. We use the backdoor exclusively. I go barefoot at home most of the time. Her signature is to neatly sever the stomach sac from the rest of the body. The only evidence I find some mornings is a neatly dissected green pouch. Mole stomaches are tiny and they fit between toes very, very well. She's my husband's cat and I warned them both the next time it happens, I'm going to hang her gorgeous hide on my wall. Gracie |
#6
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
On 3 June, 14:38, Gracecat wrote:
Her signature is to neatly sever the stomach sac from the rest of the body. The only evidence I find some mornings is a neatly dissected green pouch. That's probably not the stomach but the gall bladder apparently it's quite common for cats to leave that bit apparently it doesn't taste nice (I'll take the experts word for it) Regards Lesley Slave of the Fabulous Furballs |
#7
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
On Jun 3, 8:51*am, Lesley wrote:
On 3 June, 14:38, Gracecat wrote: *Her signature is to neatly sever the stomach sac from the rest of the body. The only evidence I find some mornings is a neatly dissected green pouch. That's probably not the stomach but the gall bladder apparently it's quite common for cats to leave that bit apparently it doesn't taste nice (I'll take the experts word for it) Regards Lesley Slave of the Fabulous Furballs I can't imagine a gall bladder that big on even a rat? It's the size of about a medium sized coin. A US quarter sometimes, no smaller than a US nickel. Grace |
#8
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
Yesterday, Jake brought a very live lizard into the house. It wasn't
moving, and Charlie insisted it was dead. He thought it was really funny when it 'recovered' and ran across my bare foot. Or he thought it was very funny when I screamed. Note I'm the one that had to catch it and get rid of it. He was thoroughly amused, but not about to do anything about it himself. In all fairness, he is none to steady on his feet. But if I'd been a bit less jittery, I'd have dropped it on him accidently so he could see just how 'dead' it was. Jo "Sherry" wrote in message ... I left the front door in a hurry this a.m. and went flying down the porch step without really looking where I was going. What I did not see was a huge rat that had been obviously left for my approval. I stepped square on it. No, I didn't just step on it. I SLID on it. I felt a crunch, then a pop, and I'll just shut up there. And I wasn't even wearing real shoes, just flip-flops. It was Frank and Boots, undoubtedly. It had certain parts missing, and that's the signature to their work. So I am in the yard squealing and dancing like a six-year-old girl, which totally terrified F&B such that they immediately scurried off. I felt kinda bad about that. I mean, they went to all that trouble, and that's not the kind of praise they were looking for. So my plans tomorrow are to find a male to scoop up the remains and dispose of them. At this house, that falls under "man job" descriptions.I am such a wussy. But as of tomorrow I am a wussy who watches where she is planting her feet. I know how stupid ths sounds. But it was *traumatic* to slide on a dead rat. I bet I even dream about this. Sherry Sherry |
#9
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
jmcquown wrote: Sounds like a real nightmare! shudder I do not envy you that experience, Sherry. One thing Persia will never be is a mouser (or a ratter). She's afraid of mice! One morning in my apartment in TN I got up and went to the kitchen. Persia *refused* to go in there. She always followed me (often led me) into the kitchen because that's where her food was stashed. What's wrong, girl? I turned on the light. Oh! There was a dead mouse on the kitchen floor. She wouldn't go anywhere near the kitchen until I disposed of the corpse. Fortunately I didn't slip and slide on it. Ugh. Jill Ummmm.... If Persia didn't produce it, how did it get there? (Dead mice don't usually appear spontaneously, without feline assistance.) |
#10
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GW (But only if you're hoomin)
Lesley wrote: On 3 June, 14:38, Gracecat wrote: Her signature is to neatly sever the stomach sac from the rest of the body. The only evidence I find some mornings is a neatly dissected green pouch. That's probably not the stomach but the gall bladder apparently it's quite common for cats to leave that bit apparently it doesn't taste nice (I'll take the experts word for it) Hence the expression: "bitter as gall"? |
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