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Cat eating sofa.



 
 
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  #1  
Old July 6th 09, 12:06 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Yowie
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 3,225
Default Cat eating sofa.

Now that our hearts have calmed down...

Pickle is an indoor outdoor cat now. Generally he goes out in the morning
and usually returns after
an hour or two of making sure the place is safe and secure. He'll sit
patiently by the back door and wait until someone notices him to let him
back in. Sometimes he'll go out two or three times in one day (depending on
how willing folks are to give him door service, but he's always back for
dinner. *Always*.

Not yesterday.

Pickle didn't closely supervise Fluffy's dinner & bed routine as he normally
does if he's already in the house. Therefore I thought he was still out.
When it was time for the cats to have dinner (Fluffy has to have hers first
or she'll snarf up the cat food in preference) I opened the back door to let
Pickle in. He wasn't there. I called 'Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle' as I
sometimes do. No luck.

(here's how I call Pickle:


On the off chance he was around the front instead, I went to the front door
and did the Pickle Siren Song. No Pickle.

Sometimes he's quite some way away and needs a few minutes to hurtle back
for dinner. So, I fed Suki & Shadow and tried again at both doors, this time
with the shaking crunchies box. No sign.

Pickle is not a stupid cat (unlike his brother) and I was reasonably
confident he had not got himself in too much trouble - it was cold outside
last night (all right, cold for *us*) and I figured perhaps he had aldready
holed up somewhere and didn't here me call. I hoped and trusted that he'd be
home the next morning.

Naturally I overslept this morning and didn't have time to do a search for
Pickle. Best I could do was call for him once (to no avail) and hop in the
car and go, bad hair day notwithstanding (now I remember why long hair is
better - even the worst bad hair day can be dealt with by a pony tail). I
rang Joel several times from work to see if Pickle had turned up, and no, he
hadn't.

I got home, shovelled down dinner and found a torch. Half an hour later I
had also found the appropriate sized batteries that still had a charge, and
went on a Pickle search up and down the street. I do realise that I looked
and sounded like an idiot calling "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" and shaking
a kibble box up and down our street, but at least I wasn't in daggy old
flannel PJs and bunny slippers this time. Imagine a grown woman with Kibble
Box in one hand, PoohBear torch in the other, (it was the only torch and
battery combination that worked, and I had to beg Cary for it) yelling
http://members.optusnet.com.au/~drwatson/Sounds/Pickle1.wav at the top of
her lungs up and down the street. Not a pretty sight....

Still no Pickle. Joel and I were bemused by his absence and I was starting
to worry.

"SHHH! Wait! Whats that?" Joel said suddenly. He turned off the TV and asked
The Yowlet to be quiet. The TV was obligingly mute, but Cary of course as
not "WHY DADDY????" he yelled.

"I thought I heard Pickle... very faintly... he must be outside".

Out I dashed again with both torch and hope, only to be dissapointed once
more.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" I called again.

"MUMMY?", The Yowlet questioned at the top of his very healthy lungs,
"WHERE'S PICKLE?"

Both of us answered "SHHH! Be Quiet!"

Cary, thinking he was in trouble, started to cry, which of course, entirely
failed to help.

After calming the poor boy down, we explained we had to be super extra
special quiet because we were trying to hear Pickle meow. If it was Suki or
Shadow we wouldn't have this problem of course, because they are both loud
meowers. VERY loud. Suki because she's deaf and can't hear herself, and
Shadow, well, she just likes 'singing', particularly at 3am.... but thats
another story. Pickle on the other hand has a very quiet 'mi' sound, barely
more than a kitten's mew, even when he's *starving*. No seranading his lady
loves from the rooftops for him (even if he did still have the bits that
would make him want to)

Finally, after singing "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" several more times, I
too heard the faint 'mi' of a Pickle meow. It sounded like it was coming
from...OMG! The Kitchen!

I raced to the kitchen and opened every cupboard and drawer, fully expecting
a very anoyed Pickle to leap out.

Nothing.

Perplexed, I called out once again, "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

The Fridge? Surely not.

Nope.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

Again, a faint "Mi" from the general direction of the...

...of the sofa.

WTF?

"Mi?"

*Definately* coming from the sofa. But how?

Joel hopped up and removed the cushion and out popped a very relieved
stressed Pickle. He meowed his disgust once more and headed straight for the
door. I let him out and he ducked around the corner to do what a cat must
before heading straight back to the kibble bowl and wolfing down last
night's leftovers. He's now snoozing on my bed - a nice flat surface not
known for eating cats.

Now, I know that sofas often eat small change, and ours seems to have a
distinct predeliction for our remote controllers (particularly the A/C).
Ours also clearly favours pens, teaspoons and McDonald's fries, but a fully
grown *cat*? Surely not! But there it was, looking inconspicious, was a tear
in the fabric under the cushion, just big enough for an overly curious cat
to get through if he worked on it, but clearly not big enough to get back
out of when the cushion was pushed back, and certainly not big enough when
one or more of us was also lounging on said cushion and blocking all exits.

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be very
wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie
--
If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many
pancakes can you fit in a doghouse? None, icecream doesn't have bones.


  #2  
Old July 6th 09, 12:54 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Magic Mood Jeep
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 928
Default Cat eating sofa.

"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Now that our hearts have calmed down...

Pickle is an indoor outdoor cat now. Generally he goes out in the
morning and usually returns after
an hour or two of making sure the place is safe and secure. He'll sit
patiently by the back door and wait until someone notices him to let him
back in. Sometimes he'll go out two or three times in one day (depending
on how willing folks are to give him door service, but he's always back
for dinner. *Always*.

Not yesterday.

Pickle didn't closely supervise Fluffy's dinner & bed routine as he
normally does if he's already in the house. Therefore I thought he was
still out. When it was time for the cats to have dinner (Fluffy has to
have hers first or she'll snarf up the cat food in preference) I opened
the back door to let Pickle in. He wasn't there. I called 'Pickle Pickle
Pickle Pickle' as I sometimes do. No luck.

(here's how I call Pickle:


On the off chance he was around the front instead, I went to the front
door and did the Pickle Siren Song. No Pickle.

Sometimes he's quite some way away and needs a few minutes to hurtle
back for dinner. So, I fed Suki & Shadow and tried again at both doors,
this time with the shaking crunchies box. No sign.

Pickle is not a stupid cat (unlike his brother) and I was reasonably
confident he had not got himself in too much trouble - it was cold
outside last night (all right, cold for *us*) and I figured perhaps he
had aldready holed up somewhere and didn't here me call. I hoped and
trusted that he'd be home the next morning.

Naturally I overslept this morning and didn't have time to do a search
for Pickle. Best I could do was call for him once (to no avail) and hop
in the car and go, bad hair day notwithstanding (now I remember why long
hair is better - even the worst bad hair day can be dealt with by a pony
tail). I rang Joel several times from work to see if Pickle had turned
up, and no, he hadn't.

I got home, shovelled down dinner and found a torch. Half an hour later
I had also found the appropriate sized batteries that still had a
charge, and went on a Pickle search up and down the street. I do realise
that I looked and sounded like an idiot calling "Pickle Pickle Pickle
Pickle" and shaking a kibble box up and down our street, but at least I
wasn't in daggy old flannel PJs and bunny slippers this time. Imagine a
grown woman with Kibble Box in one hand, PoohBear torch in the other,
(it was the only torch and battery combination that worked, and I had to
beg Cary for it) yelling
http://members.optusnet.com.au/~drwatson/Sounds/Pickle1.wav at the top
of her lungs up and down the street. Not a pretty sight....

Still no Pickle. Joel and I were bemused by his absence and I was
starting to worry.

"SHHH! Wait! Whats that?" Joel said suddenly. He turned off the TV and
asked The Yowlet to be quiet. The TV was obligingly mute, but Cary of
course as not "WHY DADDY????" he yelled.

"I thought I heard Pickle... very faintly... he must be outside".

Out I dashed again with both torch and hope, only to be dissapointed
once more.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" I called again.

"MUMMY?", The Yowlet questioned at the top of his very healthy lungs,
"WHERE'S PICKLE?"

Both of us answered "SHHH! Be Quiet!"

Cary, thinking he was in trouble, started to cry, which of course,
entirely failed to help.

After calming the poor boy down, we explained we had to be super extra
special quiet because we were trying to hear Pickle meow. If it was Suki
or Shadow we wouldn't have this problem of course, because they are both
loud meowers. VERY loud. Suki because she's deaf and can't hear herself,
and Shadow, well, she just likes 'singing', particularly at 3am.... but
thats another story. Pickle on the other hand has a very quiet 'mi'
sound, barely more than a kitten's mew, even when he's *starving*. No
seranading his lady loves from the rooftops for him (even if he did
still have the bits that would make him want to)

Finally, after singing "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" several more times,
I too heard the faint 'mi' of a Pickle meow. It sounded like it was
coming from...OMG! The Kitchen!

I raced to the kitchen and opened every cupboard and drawer, fully
expecting a very anoyed Pickle to leap out.

Nothing.

Perplexed, I called out once again, "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

The Fridge? Surely not.

Nope.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

Again, a faint "Mi" from the general direction of the...

..of the sofa.

WTF?

"Mi?"

*Definately* coming from the sofa. But how?

Joel hopped up and removed the cushion and out popped a very relieved
stressed Pickle. He meowed his disgust once more and headed straight for
the door. I let him out and he ducked around the corner to do what a cat
must before heading straight back to the kibble bowl and wolfing down
last night's leftovers. He's now snoozing on my bed - a nice flat
surface not known for eating cats.

Now, I know that sofas often eat small change, and ours seems to have a
distinct predeliction for our remote controllers (particularly the A/C).
Ours also clearly favours pens, teaspoons and McDonald's fries, but a
fully grown *cat*? Surely not! But there it was, looking inconspicious,
was a tear in the fabric under the cushion, just big enough for an
overly curious cat to get through if he worked on it, but clearly not
big enough to get back out of when the cushion was pushed back, and
certainly not big enough when one or more of us was also lounging on
said cushion and blocking all exits.

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be
very wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie
--
If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many
pancakes can you fit in a doghouse? None, icecream doesn't have bones.



And just where was the Beverage Warning on this???? Good thing I had left
my beverage in the other room, and my laptop only got a small spattering
of early-morning spittle when I read "but at least I wasn't in daggy old
flannel PJs and bunny slippers this time," (because THIS I could see in my
mind), instead of a full-on mouthful-of-caffeinated-beverage spew.

Oh, and when I read the subject line, I thought you were referring to a
cat eating your sofa....and I saw, in my mind's eye, a large white cat (I
know all 3 of yours are white) laying on a sofa arm, quietly nomming it in
protest of not getting his/her gooshey food....

--
^..^ This is Kitty. Copy and paste Kitty into your signature to help

her
wipe out Bunny's world domination.
--
The ONE and ONLY
lefthanded-pathetic-paranoid-psychotic-sarcastic-wiseass-ditzy
former-blonde
in Bloomington! (And proud of it, too)
email me at nalee1964 (at) comcast (dot) net
http://community.webshots.com/user/mgcmdjeep


  #3  
Old July 6th 09, 01:09 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Cheryl[_5_]
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 909
Default Cat eating sofa.

Yowie wrote:
snips story regretfully

You have a real talent for these stories! I couldn't stop reading until
I found out what had happened to poor Pickle!

I suppose he walked off with that air of "I really MEANT to do that!!"
some cats have in such situations!

Cheryl
  #4  
Old July 6th 09, 01:21 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
jmcquown[_2_]
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 7,591
Default Cat eating sofa.

"Magic Mood Jeep" wrote in message
...
"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Now that our hearts have calmed down...

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

Again, a faint "Mi" from the general direction of the...

..of the sofa.

WTF?

"Mi?"

*Definately* coming from the sofa. But how?

Joel hopped up and removed the cushion and out popped a very relieved
stressed Pickle. He meowed his disgust once more and headed straight for
the door. I let him out and he ducked around the corner to do what a cat
must before heading straight back to the kibble bowl and wolfing down
last night's leftovers. He's now snoozing on my bed - a nice flat surface
not known for eating cats.

Now, I know that sofas often eat small change, and ours seems to have a
distinct predeliction for our remote controllers (particularly the A/C).
Ours also clearly favours pens, teaspoons and McDonald's fries, but a
fully grown *cat*? Surely not! But there it was, looking inconspicious,
was a tear in the fabric under the cushion, just big enough for an overly
curious cat to get through if he worked on it, but clearly not big enough
to get back out of when the cushion was pushed back, and certainly not
big enough when one or more of us was also lounging on said cushion and
blocking all exits.

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be
very wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie



Oh, and when I read the subject line, I thought you were referring to a
cat eating your sofa....and I saw, in my mind's eye, a large white cat (I
know all 3 of yours are white) laying on a sofa arm, quietly nomming it in
protest of not getting his/her gooshey food....

I thought the same thing! Persia rips up newspapers and boxes. It wouldn't
surprise me one bit to find her eating the sofa if it didn't give her the
comfort she's looking for

Jill

  #5  
Old July 6th 09, 02:55 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Adrian[_2_]
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 3,794
Default Cat eating sofa.

Yowie wrote:
snip
Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be
very wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie


I'm so glad Pickle was okay. It's amazing how long they can hang on without
using the litter box, I'm glad your sofa wasn't used for that purpose.
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy, Bagheera & Shadow)
Cats leave pawprints on your heart
http://community.webshots.com/user/clowderuk


  #6  
Old July 6th 09, 03:01 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Sherry
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 3,176
Default Cat eating sofa.

On Jul 6, 6:06*am, "Yowie" wrote:
*Now that our hearts have calmed down...

Pickle is an indoor outdoor cat now. Generally he goes out in the morning
and usually returns after
an hour or two of making sure the place is safe and secure. He'll sit
patiently by the back door and wait until someone notices him to let him
back in. Sometimes he'll go out two or three times in one day (depending on
how willing folks are to give him door service, but he's always back for
dinner. *Always*.

Not yesterday.

Pickle didn't closely supervise Fluffy's dinner & bed routine as he normally
does if he's already in the house. Therefore I thought he was still out.
When it was time for the cats to have dinner (Fluffy has to have hers first
or she'll snarf up the cat food in preference) I opened the back door to let
Pickle in. He wasn't there. I called 'Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle' as I
sometimes do. No luck.

(here's how I call Pickle:

On the off chance he was around the front instead, I went to the front door
and did the Pickle Siren Song. No Pickle.

Sometimes he's quite some way away and needs a few minutes to hurtle back
for dinner. So, I fed Suki & Shadow and tried again at both doors, this time
with the shaking crunchies box. No sign.

Pickle is not a stupid cat (unlike his brother) and I was reasonably
confident he had not got himself in too much trouble - it was cold outside
last night (all right, cold for *us*) and I figured perhaps he had aldready
holed up somewhere and didn't here me call. I hoped and trusted that he'd be
home the next morning.

Naturally I overslept this morning and didn't have time to do a search for
Pickle. Best I could do was call for him once (to no avail) and hop in the
car and go, bad hair day notwithstanding (now I remember why long hair is
better - even the worst bad hair day can be dealt with by a pony tail). I
rang Joel several times from work to see if Pickle had turned up, and no, he
hadn't.

I got home, shovelled down dinner and found a torch. Half an hour later I
had also found the appropriate sized batteries that still had a charge, and
went on a Pickle search up and down the street. I do realise that I looked
and sounded like an idiot calling "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" and shaking
a kibble box up and down our street, but at least I wasn't in daggy old
flannel PJs and bunny slippers this time. Imagine a grown woman with Kibble
Box in one hand, PoohBear torch in the other, (it was the only torch and
battery combination that worked, and I had to beg Cary for it) yelling
http://members.optusnet.com.au/~drwatson/Sounds/Pickle1.wav at the top of
her lungs up and down the street. Not a pretty sight....

Still no Pickle. Joel and I were bemused by his absence and I was starting
to worry.

"SHHH! Wait! Whats that?" Joel said suddenly. He turned off the TV and asked
The Yowlet to be quiet. The TV was obligingly mute, but Cary of course as
not "WHY DADDY????" he yelled.

"I thought I heard Pickle... very faintly... he must be outside".

Out I dashed again with both torch and hope, only to be dissapointed once
more.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" I called again.

"MUMMY?", The Yowlet questioned at the top of his very healthy lungs,
"WHERE'S PICKLE?"

Both of us answered "SHHH! Be Quiet!"

Cary, thinking he was in trouble, started to cry, which of course, entirely
failed to help.

After calming the poor boy down, we explained we had to be super extra
special quiet because we were trying to hear Pickle meow. If it was Suki or
Shadow we wouldn't have this problem of course, because they are both loud
meowers. VERY loud. Suki because she's deaf and can't hear herself, and
Shadow, well, she just likes 'singing', particularly at 3am.... but thats
another story. Pickle on the other hand has a very quiet 'mi' sound, barely
more than a kitten's mew, even when he's *starving*. No seranading his lady
loves from the rooftops for him (even if he did still have the bits that
would make him want to)

Finally, after singing "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" several more times, I
too heard the faint 'mi' of a Pickle meow. It sounded like it was coming
from...OMG! The Kitchen!

I raced to the kitchen and opened every cupboard and drawer, fully expecting
a very anoyed Pickle to leap out.

Nothing.

Perplexed, I called out once again, "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

The Fridge? Surely not.

Nope.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

Again, a faint "Mi" from the general direction of the...

..of the sofa.

WTF?

"Mi?"

*Definately* coming from the sofa. But how?

Joel hopped up and removed the cushion and out popped a very relieved
stressed Pickle. He meowed his disgust once more and headed straight for the
door. I let him out and he ducked around the corner to do what a cat must
before heading straight back to the kibble bowl and wolfing down last
night's leftovers. He's now snoozing on my bed - a nice flat surface not
known for eating cats.

Now, I know that sofas often eat small change, and ours seems to have a
distinct predeliction for our remote controllers (particularly the A/C).
Ours also clearly favours pens, teaspoons and McDonald's fries, but a fully
grown *cat*? Surely not! But there it was, looking inconspicious, was a tear
in the fabric under the cushion, just big enough for an overly curious cat
to get through if he worked on it, but clearly not big enough to get back
out of when the cushion was pushed back, and certainly not big enough when
one or more of us was also lounging on said cushion and blocking all exits.

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be very
wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie
--
If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many
pancakes can you fit in a doghouse? None, icecream doesn't have bones.


And you thought you didn't have any Schmogg-worthy b*stard cat tricks
to tell :-)
I think that one definitely qualifies! I can't believe Pickle was
there all the time,
listening to you calling her!

Sherry
  #7  
Old July 6th 09, 04:08 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Kreisleriana[_2_]
external usenet poster
 
Posts: 1,327
Default Cat eating sofa.


"Yowie" wrote in message
...
Now that our hearts have calmed down...

Pickle is an indoor outdoor cat now. Generally he goes out in the morning
and usually returns after
an hour or two of making sure the place is safe and secure. He'll sit
patiently by the back door and wait until someone notices him to let him
back in. Sometimes he'll go out two or three times in one day (depending
on how willing folks are to give him door service, but he's always back
for dinner. *Always*.

Not yesterday.

Pickle didn't closely supervise Fluffy's dinner & bed routine as he
normally does if he's already in the house. Therefore I thought he was
still out. When it was time for the cats to have dinner (Fluffy has to
have hers first or she'll snarf up the cat food in preference) I opened
the back door to let Pickle in. He wasn't there. I called 'Pickle Pickle
Pickle Pickle' as I sometimes do. No luck.

(here's how I call Pickle:


On the off chance he was around the front instead, I went to the front
door and did the Pickle Siren Song. No Pickle.

Sometimes he's quite some way away and needs a few minutes to hurtle back
for dinner. So, I fed Suki & Shadow and tried again at both doors, this
time with the shaking crunchies box. No sign.

Pickle is not a stupid cat (unlike his brother) and I was reasonably
confident he had not got himself in too much trouble - it was cold outside
last night (all right, cold for *us*) and I figured perhaps he had
aldready holed up somewhere and didn't here me call. I hoped and trusted
that he'd be home the next morning.

Naturally I overslept this morning and didn't have time to do a search for
Pickle. Best I could do was call for him once (to no avail) and hop in the
car and go, bad hair day notwithstanding (now I remember why long hair is
better - even the worst bad hair day can be dealt with by a pony tail). I
rang Joel several times from work to see if Pickle had turned up, and no,
he hadn't.

I got home, shovelled down dinner and found a torch. Half an hour later I
had also found the appropriate sized batteries that still had a charge,
and went on a Pickle search up and down the street. I do realise that I
looked and sounded like an idiot calling "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" and
shaking a kibble box up and down our street, but at least I wasn't in
daggy old flannel PJs and bunny slippers this time. Imagine a grown woman
with Kibble Box in one hand, PoohBear torch in the other, (it was the only
torch and battery combination that worked, and I had to beg Cary for it)
yelling http://members.optusnet.com.au/~drwatson/Sounds/Pickle1.wav at
the top of her lungs up and down the street. Not a pretty sight....

Still no Pickle. Joel and I were bemused by his absence and I was starting
to worry.

"SHHH! Wait! Whats that?" Joel said suddenly. He turned off the TV and
asked The Yowlet to be quiet. The TV was obligingly mute, but Cary of
course as not "WHY DADDY????" he yelled.

"I thought I heard Pickle... very faintly... he must be outside".

Out I dashed again with both torch and hope, only to be dissapointed once
more.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" I called again.

"MUMMY?", The Yowlet questioned at the top of his very healthy lungs,
"WHERE'S PICKLE?"

Both of us answered "SHHH! Be Quiet!"

Cary, thinking he was in trouble, started to cry, which of course,
entirely failed to help.

After calming the poor boy down, we explained we had to be super extra
special quiet because we were trying to hear Pickle meow. If it was Suki
or Shadow we wouldn't have this problem of course, because they are both
loud meowers. VERY loud. Suki because she's deaf and can't hear herself,
and Shadow, well, she just likes 'singing', particularly at 3am.... but
thats another story. Pickle on the other hand has a very quiet 'mi' sound,
barely more than a kitten's mew, even when he's *starving*. No seranading
his lady loves from the rooftops for him (even if he did still have the
bits that would make him want to)

Finally, after singing "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle" several more times, I
too heard the faint 'mi' of a Pickle meow. It sounded like it was coming
from...OMG! The Kitchen!

I raced to the kitchen and opened every cupboard and drawer, fully
expecting a very anoyed Pickle to leap out.

Nothing.

Perplexed, I called out once again, "Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

The Fridge? Surely not.

Nope.

"Pickle Pickle Pickle Pickle".

Again, a faint "Mi" from the general direction of the...

..of the sofa.

WTF?

"Mi?"

*Definately* coming from the sofa. But how?

Joel hopped up and removed the cushion and out popped a very relieved
stressed Pickle. He meowed his disgust once more and headed straight for
the door. I let him out and he ducked around the corner to do what a cat
must before heading straight back to the kibble bowl and wolfing down last
night's leftovers. He's now snoozing on my bed - a nice flat surface not
known for eating cats.

Now, I know that sofas often eat small change, and ours seems to have a
distinct predeliction for our remote controllers (particularly the A/C).
Ours also clearly favours pens, teaspoons and McDonald's fries, but a
fully grown *cat*? Surely not! But there it was, looking inconspicious,
was a tear in the fabric under the cushion, just big enough for an overly
curious cat to get through if he worked on it, but clearly not big enough
to get back out of when the cushion was pushed back, and certainly not big
enough when one or more of us was also lounging on said cushion and
blocking all exits.

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be very
wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.

Yowie
--
If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many
pancakes can you fit in a doghouse? None, icecream doesn't have bones.




I think Pickle just passed his ******* Cat Qualifying Exam.

--
Theresa and Dante

Stinky Forever: http://pets.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh


  #8  
Old July 6th 09, 07:55 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
[email protected]
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Posts: 9,349
Default Cat eating sofa.

Yowie wrote:

Now that our hearts have calmed down...


Pickle is an indoor outdoor cat now. Generally he goes out in the morning
and usually returns after
an hour or two of making sure the place is safe and secure. He'll sit
patiently by the back door and wait until someone notices him to let him
back in. Sometimes he'll go out two or three times in one day (depending on
how willing folks are to give him door service, but he's always back for
dinner. *Always*.


[snip hilarious story]

I'm glad he's OK! I have to say I wasn't sure who would be eating whom
in this story - was it about a sofa that ate a cat, or the other way
around? Poor guy!

--
Joyce ^..^

To email me, remove the XXX from my user name.
  #9  
Old July 6th 09, 11:12 PM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
Baird Stafford
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Posts: 199
Default Cat eating sofa.

In article ,
"Yowie" wrote:

giggles snipped since I've reread it four times now

Pickle, I am quite sure, is now down to 8 lives. And will no doubt be very
wary of vicious cat eating sofas from now on.


Leila is *not* an outdoor cat. When I leave the front door open because
I have to go in and out for some reason, she scolds nervously until it's
properly closed again: the Out is *big*!

Now, the so-called Florida room and the garage are very obviously parts
of Her House into which she should be allowed on demand. She can see
the Florida room through the sliding glass doors - and the SO and I
normally come in through the garage when we've been away, so she meets
us at the kitchen door and knows that's a Room she's not allowed to
visit - and Rooms are Indoors.

Neither the SO nor I feel any desire to play hide-and-seek with a
cat-sized person in a garage into which the vehicle is not allowed for a
reason that should be obvious with a little thought.

She does, however, have her comfy-caves in the house into which she
disappears when a) she's not feeling social or b) Two-foots are being
obnoxious about something. One is atop the hippie-pillows that are
stored under one of the end tables in the living room. Another is on
top of the old electric blanket that no longer works quite right and has
been relegated to the top of a chest on the SO's side of the closet,
where the clothes on their hangars make a proper cave roof. I do not
know where the rest of 'em are, and won't go looking unless she doesn't
appear for attention and/or food. A girl has to have *some* privacy,
after all!

Oh, hippie pillows? Those are the big ones for putting on the floor to
sit on when we run out of chair and sofa space. Doesn't happen all that
often, but they have come in handy from time to time.

Of course, Leila is about ten years old by now - a respectable
middle-aged lady, in fact (a description that caused the SO to snort in
disbelief when I voiced it yesterday, for some reason).

Baird

--
In theory there is no difference between theory and practice. In practice
there is. -Yogi Berra
  #10  
Old July 7th 09, 12:07 AM posted to rec.pets.cats.anecdotes
[email protected]
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Posts: 9,349
Default Cat eating sofa.

Baird wrote:

Leila is *not* an outdoor cat. When I leave the front door open because
I have to go in and out for some reason, she scolds nervously until it's
properly closed again: the Out is *big*!


And it could suck her out into Itself. shudder

Neither the SO nor I feel any desire to play hide-and-seek with a
cat-sized person in a garage into which the vehicle is not allowed for a
reason that should be obvious with a little thought.


Totally obvious. Does anyone actually store their car in their garage?
What, and waste all that storage space??

Of course, Leila is about ten years old by now - a respectable
middle-aged lady, in fact (a description that caused the SO to snort in
disbelief when I voiced it yesterday, for some reason).


Was she snorting at being called middle-aged? Or respectable? Or at
the idea that any middle-aged person could be considered respectable?

--
Joyce ^..^

To email me, remove the XXX from my user name.
 




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