Accidental animal crueltyI once invented a brilliant game - I'd sit at the top of the stairs and throw cat biscuits to the bottom. My cat would eat them, then I'd shake the box, and he would run up the stairs for more biscuits. Then - of course - I'd throw a biscuit back down to the bottom. I kept this going for about half an hour, amused at my little game, and all was fine until the cat vomited. I felt absolutely dreadful.
Have you accidentally been cruel to an animal?
This question has been revived from way, way, way back on the b3ta messageboard when it was all fields round here.
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rob, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 11:13)
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Funeral for a friendBack at the house, after my aunt's funeral, the conversation turned poignantly to death. Having exhausted tales of friends and relatives dying the conversation somehow shifted to pets.
"I still remember when my goldfish died" said my sister, sadly. "But it was sent into the sea, a nice fitting end".
At this point my father and I started pissing ourselves laughing and my mother and sister looked increasingly puzzled. As my sister continued her tale of fishy grief our howls of mirth grew stronger until I could barely speak.
"What. Is. So. FUNNY?" demanded my sis at last.
And so I told her. Y'see the morning of its demise she awoke to find Frank the goldfish (name changed to protect its identity) floating near - but not on - the surface of the water. After my mum's attempts to reassure her that it was just sleeping she painfully realised it was probably on the way out.
"When the cat was ill we rubbed brandy on its mouth to revive it" remarked my mum in a particularly dippy misunderstanding of species variation.
My sister ran to the drinks cupboard, but alas we had no brandy due to my father's heart condition, so instead she returned with a bottle of vodka and spent the next ten minutes trying to rub Smirnoff round the mouth of a half-dead goldfish. This unsurprisingly did not work and my mum made her go to school with promises that we'd do our best to revive Frank while she was gone.
My mum phoned the nearest Animal Magic pet shop hoping for advice.
"Buy a new fish and pretend it's the old one so when your daughter comes home the fish is all better," said the inappropriately-named Animal Magic man.
"She's seventeen years old. She'll notice," replied my mum.
My dad's friend arrived at lunch time, took one look at the fish and pronounced it dead. We figured he was a plumber so he'd know. He ceremoniously flushed dead Frank down the toilet and wrote my sister a note on behalf of the fish saying "Dear L, I had a lovely life and loved being your goldfish. I have gone back to the sea now, love Frank."
My sister returned from school and spent the next two weeks grieving over the loss of her beloved watery friend and confidant. She was slightly mollified by the note and the idea of a fitting burial at sea...
...until my aunt's funeral we told her the truth of what happened and she refused to speak to us for two weeks. Nevermind the fact that she tried to get her pet drunk in the name of medical science, apparently we were cruel for flushing a dead goldfish down the toilet. Go figure.
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crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:14,
5 replies)
Of course he may justhave been suffering swim bladder issues due to overfeeding.
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chenobble rocking his explorer beard on, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:38,
closed)
hahahahaha........your sister's thick as fuck.
*clicks*
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Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:40,
closed)
I knowand the irony is, she works with special needs kids
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crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 6 Dec 2007, 16:52,
closed)
.Bwa ha ha ha!
(, Sun 9 Dec 2007, 1:34, closed)
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