My cat, which is a large Maine Coon, came through the cat door with the body of a small, adolescent squirrel in her mouth and dropped it on the floor. Shelly, my wife, immediately scolded the cat for killing the squirrel, telling her that she should be ashamed of herself. She then leans over the body of the squirrel and says things like “You poor little thing, bless your little heart”. Along about this time, the squirrel jumps up and hauls ass. For some reason, at this point, the squirrel changed from being a “poor little thing” to a “dirty little MF”. She then starts screaming at the cat to “kill the little bastard”. The cat, by now is as confused as Hogan’s Goat, just sits there looking at my wife as she clings from the ceiling. Do you know how hard it is to get a grown woman down from the ceiling?
Posted on: Mon, 29 Jul 2013 15:10:18 +0000
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