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Yakattak posted:he doesnt look happy anymore if you just had a chip put into your neck and your balls cut off then had a giant cone put over your head which makes it next to impossible to eat, you wouldnt be happy either
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Jan 18, 2011 03:24
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| # ? May 30, 2024 02:36 |
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Sniep posted:if you just had a chip put into your neck and your balls cut off then had a giant cone put over your head which makes it next to impossible to eat, you wouldnt be happy either that's actually my fetish 
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Jan 18, 2011 03:25
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fil;l his cone up with food and he'll be happy
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Jan 18, 2011 03:27
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please get a pic of mr_kitten like this so we can retire this old as poo poo image macro
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Jan 18, 2011 03:34
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My cats have gotten the fabric cones and it allows them to eat a lot easier but still prevents them from trying to lick their non-existant balls.
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Jan 18, 2011 03:41
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DNova posted:maybe it's raining outside and he can't get a signal anymore hahahaha
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Jan 18, 2011 03:48
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Sniep posted:if you just had a chip put into your neck and your balls cut off then had a giant cone put over your head which makes it next to impossible to eat, you wouldnt be happy either i mean the castration or whatever iwouldnt like but i want a chip in my brain, makes me more like a computer 
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Jan 18, 2011 03:49
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Jan 18, 2011 03:53
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marshmallow   
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Jan 18, 2011 03:53
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why yes my hat is also a cat
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Jan 18, 2011 03:54
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Janin posted:woe
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Jan 18, 2011 03:54
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Sneaking Mission posted:why yes my hat is also a cat
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Jan 18, 2011 03:56
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Tom Collins posted:feets.jpg
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Jan 18, 2011 04:10
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MY BABY 
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Jan 18, 2011 05:29
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pik_d posted:farlow likes stairs
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Jan 18, 2011 05:51
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franklin update sleepin' with cheeser  playing in a pile of paper sleeping some more      
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Jan 18, 2011 06:02
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orange cats ftw Ginger:    
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Jan 18, 2011 06:16
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Air Force Bake Sale posted:cat v mad @ bein in oklahoma
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Jan 18, 2011 06:20
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Trig Discipline posted:mean muggin
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Jan 18, 2011 06:25
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rotor posted:cat v mad @ bein in oklahoma that was exactly the face mr. cat was making when i was driving in.
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Jan 18, 2011 06:25
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Air Force Bake Sale posted:lol
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Jan 18, 2011 06:37
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rotor posted:cat v mad @ bein in oklahoma smart cat
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Jan 18, 2011 06:38
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Trig Discipline posted:lol
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Jan 18, 2011 07:17
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Air Force Bake Sale posted:OAK LAH FUCKIN WHERE? GODdratIT!
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Jan 18, 2011 08:35
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so i'm thinking maybe in 6 months or so i get a cat i've never owned a cat before, what's a good cat breed for a first time owner? i want one that's loyal and playful like a dog, not some stuck up bitch. i'm thinking maybe a maine coon or a british shorthair. any advice? edit:  or  ? mod sassinator fucked around with this message at 09:22 on Jan 18, 2011 |
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Jan 18, 2011 09:20
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you don't just "get" a cat that's loyal to you its earned maybe go to shelters and look for cats and spend time with them and find one that bonds to you. it's up to them
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Jan 18, 2011 09:23
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mr kitten is going to look like steve merchant at this rate
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Jan 18, 2011 09:36
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get the cat that looks the coolest & one u wanna hang out with and impress
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Jan 18, 2011 10:27
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meet as many cats at the shelter as u can the one that wants to be your bff is the right one
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Jan 18, 2011 10:45
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CAT ON THE COUCH!! posted:meet as many cats at the shelter as u can the one that wants to be your bff is the right one twas the story between me and mr. cat
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Jan 18, 2011 10:49
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Sniep posted:you don't just "get" a cat I saved a cat from a nasty death and he became my bff. I was 18 or 19 and a wannabe biker. I dunno where that came from, maybe the stories my mom told me about dad and his harley, or maybe from reading Hunter S. Thompson in high school. Whatever, machts nicht, except for setting the scene. I was at a party in some guys basement with a bunch of other wannabees and highschool punks. The music was blarin' and the beer was flowin' and reefer was burnin' and a little black and white kitten wandered into all the noise and fun from outside somewhere. One guy there scooped him up and yelled, "HEY, I GOT SOME PUSSY! LET'S GET IT WET!" and started to stick the cat into a pitcher. I said, "What the gently caress are you doin to that cat?" He said he was gonna drown it in beer. "Can you think of a better way to die?" I took the cat and said, "Yeah, old age, you rear end in a top hat." I put the kitten in my skidlid (motorcyle helmet) and kept it close for the rest of the night. He snoozed out in there and seemed to be pretty happy about it. When the party was over, I tucked him inside my jacket and rode home. When I got home, my mom asked me why I had a kitten and I told her some jerk wanted to kill it and I saved him. She said, "Oh, good for you. What's his name?" I hadn't really thought about that but I said his name was Harley, because motorcyles, gently caress yeah! Harley was a pretty good cat. He didn't poo poo outside his litterbox, didn't yowl all night, he didn't do things that good cats don't do. He also seemed to understand that he'd fallen into a pretty good gig. He was lucky enough to join our family just at the very beginnings of the catdrugs business. He got to be the head of research and quality control. The name Harley didn't stick, though. Even though he loved motorcycles, and would ride with me every chance he got, the name just wasn't quite right for him. I think mom first called him Dudley because she saw him sitting on the seat of my bike facing the wrong way as I putted around the block. Remember the opening scenes of Dudley Dooright? Yeah. He became Dudley. Dudley was a serious motorhead cat. He LOOOOoooooved CAPITAL ELL OH VEE EE DEED anything with wheels and an engine. When dad mowed the lawn, Dudley was often perched on the hood of the little riding mower. When I started my bike, he would run to me and climb up my leg to get on the gas tank. We'd ride all over town together, or around the logging roads in the nearby mountains. When I got on the big highways and got up to speed, I'd open my jacket and Dudley would scoot inside and ride with just his nose sticking out. He loved riding in cars as much as any dog. One time I drove my pickup truck into town and I thought I'd left Dudley at home inside. When I arrived at my destination and got out, there he was in the bed, just happy as a clam on prozac. My mom had to run out of the house once and grab Dudley off a semi flatbed trailer. The trucker had gone into the cafe across the street and left his truck idling in the parking lot and Dudley jumped on, thinking no doubt, "Getcher motor runnin'! Head out on the HIGHway! Lookin' for adventure..." Like I said, Dudley was my bff. He hung out in my room all the time, rode with me, partied with me, and just generally enjoyed life with me. He was unconcerned when I painted his white nose with food coloring. Yeah, my catte is black and white and BRIGHT GREEN. Sometimes I would trim the fur on the end of his tail and make it a flattop. Mom bitched at me for that, but Dud and I both knew it was stylin'. Not too long after we had bonded, I did an incredibly stupid thing. I got drunk and high as gently caress and sideswiped a Buick at a high rate of speed. Fortunately, Dudley had given that party a pass and was at home when I nearly killed myself. I spent close to a year in the hospital all told, a lot of that time in traction or otherwise less than mobile. A couple of friends would sneak Dudley in to vist me now and then and we were both very happy to see each other. One time in the hospital, I was holding Dudley on my chest and petting him when somebody opened the door and I thought it was a nurse and we were busted. I tossed Dudley to my friend on my right who tossed him across the bed to my friend on the left who opened a drawer on the nightstand thing and put the cat inside and closed it up. We all three tried to look innocent and stuff but it wasn't a nurse, it was my mom. We all started giggling and mom was like, "what's so funny?" and then Dudley meowed and stuck his paw out the drawer opening and then we all laughed like idiots. Well, I got out of the hospital and back to home eventually. I didn't learn from experience and even before I could walk all that well again, I was riding and Dudley was riding with me. He'd grown up and grown bigger. He was a very muscley dude and a generally badass cat. He'd acquired a distinctive scar on his nose while I was away, a diagonal line from upper left to lower right, most likely a very small sample of what he'd handed out to fuckin' nub cats in the neighborhood. Also, Dudley has picked up a new hobby called "Eat a bunch of grasshoppers then puke up the legs all over dee eight's bike seat." I did not begrudge him this fun one little bit. We had one little weird wreck together. I was going down the alley behind the garage at about 4 mph. Dudley was just lounging on the tank like "yeah this isnt riding I can fuckin stroll faster than this" and a fuckin dog ran out from behind a neighbor's fence all YAP YAP YAP O SHI..and I collected that bitch. I grabbed the front brake and clutch at the exact instant the front wheel made contact with the dog and it kinda pinned the dog to the ground by its hair. Dudley jumped over the bars, onto the dog (with claws extended for traction), and then took off running. I tried to dab a foot to the left but the bike tipped right and gently caress it was a mess YIP YIP YIPPING dawg and me yelling O gently caress poo poo HELL drat and the neighbor yelling at me and the dawg both and my dad pointing and laughing... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Time passed, I got all married and moved out and stuff, mom and dad moved down the valley to where the catnip farm is now and Dudley moved with them. It wasa good place for him. Not so many temptations to play hobo and ride off on a random vehicle, and there was beaucoup catdrugs. He and his adopted sister Jezabel got into a kilo of the good stuff by themselves once. That was a party for the ages. Whenever I went to visit, it was as much to see Dudley as it was to see mom and dad. I would give him some ear skritches and a motorcyle ride and we had a good time. Eventually, he got way old, he got sick and skinny. The last time I saw him, I was not quite 40 years old. Dudley had wasted away to practically nothing. He was just a little old man cat with all the mass of a damp comic book. I picked him up gently and put him on the tank of my bike and we went for one last ride, really slow, up the lane and back. I cried like a girl the whole way and Dudley purred. He died a day or two later and dad buried him under a big cottonwood tree and I hung my biker colors on a branch over his grave. fake edit: I'm crying like a girl as I post this.
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Jan 18, 2011 12:43
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Jan 18, 2011 13:41
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Pretty Cool Name posted:
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Jan 18, 2011 14:02
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That's a wonderful story, I really hope it's true.
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Jan 18, 2011 14:20
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dee eight posted:fake edit: I'm crying like a girl as I post this. i have nothing so dramatic, but my cat was a stray. i figure she must have come from a house, because she was friendly as hell from day one. also scared of brooms. she just showed up in the gangway behind my apartment one day and was real purry, and talkative in that part siamese way. after a few days of hanging around i figured she was for me and took her in. i put her on my shoulder one time and forever after she is a shoulder cat. to the point where if a stranger visits and unwittingly stands near the counter for too long they will get climbed or pounced on. shes ridden in trucks with me from chicago to philadelphia to sacramento and back to chicago. she likes a pile on passenger seat so she can sit and watch everything go by.
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Jan 18, 2011 14:45
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ahhh spiders posted:cat leads blind person to their sitting chair then knocks a glass of water over on them
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Jan 18, 2011 14:46
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big cat pets: the tv show honey west (65-66) featured an ocelot who was the star's and character's pet. his name was bruce (in end credits 'bruce as himself')   Ronald L. Smith in his book "Sweethearts of '60s TV" (St. Martin's Press, 1989) reported, "The powerful thirty-pound animal pelted Anne around with his paws, leaving her black and blue. When he chomped on her hand and drew blood, she had to have a tetanus shot." Similar sentiments were expressed by Ralph Helfer, the animal trainer who provided the ocelots who played the Bruce character on the series. In "The Encyclopedia of TV Pets" (Rutledge Hill Press, 2002) Helfer recalled, "Anne Francis was a sweetheart, one of the few that didn't mind if the ocelot scratched her a little bit when it jumped on her lap. She was real animal lover."  
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Jan 18, 2011 14:49
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best ocelot
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Jan 18, 2011 15:25
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 e: this isnt my cat though nail fucked around with this message at 15:52 on Jan 18, 2011 |
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Jan 18, 2011 15:37
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yo first time cat owner - i suggest getting an older cat. not many are given chances because everyone goes OMG KITTENS! and they are super chillax and awesome. you also don't have to deal with a kitten because they're ASSHOLES growing up and will test your patience like a toddler. my first cat i adopted was 13 and only lived 3 years but gently caress was he awesome and chillax as hell. he'd just chill out on top of my crt all day and be like "sup dawg, internettin? sweet. turn that huge rear end heater on for me tia" then i got a kitten and hated life. our neighbors stole the fucker from me and told me it had been run over  . so then i got a 4 year old cat and she is gizmo and is awesome and has been 100% indoors
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Jan 18, 2011 15:39
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