Reservoir cats
Discussion
No, not a thread asking for the best type of sack to drown them with.
After the Tarentino film reservoir dogs, the cats have had a go at an animal sequel.
4am this morning, i was woken by an ungodly amount of noise coming from downstairs, and at first thought that I was being broken into.
Wrong. So very wrong.
Found something cricket bat shaped, went downstairs.....
Halfway down the stairs there was an almighty screaming noise- not human, but bloody loud, and generally unpleasant. This was followed by a loud screech.
Crockery smashing, noise of things moving at some speed in the kitchen.Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound......pull the door open, lights on, cricket bat poised to hit whatever is there............
Great, the cats have got a squirrel.
Furthermore, the cats are now torturing the aforementioned squirrel, and each time it tries to make a break for it, they claw it again, hence the squeals.
When i burst in (looking ridiculous in boxer shorts, a dressing gown, and mrs emsmans pink slippers, still ready to swing the old SS jumbo-which is an old cricket bat, and not some form of deranged euphenism) even the cats stop their sadism for a moment, look at me with such utter contempt, I swear I blushed.
Sensing his moment, a very second hand looking tufty makes a break for it (did he look left and right first? did he buggery), straight past me, into the lounge, and well, that was the last i saw of him for a couple of minutes.
The cats gave chase, over the sofa, spooking poor old tufty, who then makes off up the curtains. He then sits and waits (for what i have no idea) whilst the cats are going mental as they cant reach him.
Stalemate.
Back into the kitchen- which now resembles an operating theatre on a bad day- bits of fluff everywhere, a little piece of ear (and if I may add, a fitting tribute to mr Tarentino's work).
Kettle on.
Right. What to do next? I cant leave the thing there dying, as it will no doubt will in the near future. Im not cruel enough to let the cats finish the job.
The cats are now circling below the curtains, wondering how to get up there.
So, a big cardboard box is needed. Grab one from the shed, back in to find the squirrel gone.
Bugger.
And where are the cats?
Great. The grisly spectacle is now continuing upstairs by the sounds of it.
Being an old cottage, the stairs are tight, so trying to get the box up them isnt going to work.
Sod it. I would have no qualms about shooting a squirrel, so shouldnt really take pity on this one- it is after all, what cats do. Up i go, pondering the best way to dispatch an injured rodent with a cricket bat, without hitting one of the cats (although its bloody tempting).
No need. Tufty got himself a turbo, and is positively flying round the landing. Sure, a couple of ormanents were broken, but he is still very much in the game- the cats are nowhere near fast enough.
Then, the jump he never made. A huge leap, into the wall. Then nothing.
Game over.
A split second later, the cats arrive, sniff at it, then leave it- and one has the audacity to get straight on my bed, curl up and nod off.
Rodents are only fun when alive it would seem.
So, whats the best type of sack to drown a couple of cats?
After the Tarentino film reservoir dogs, the cats have had a go at an animal sequel.
4am this morning, i was woken by an ungodly amount of noise coming from downstairs, and at first thought that I was being broken into.
Wrong. So very wrong.
Found something cricket bat shaped, went downstairs.....
Halfway down the stairs there was an almighty screaming noise- not human, but bloody loud, and generally unpleasant. This was followed by a loud screech.
Crockery smashing, noise of things moving at some speed in the kitchen.Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound......pull the door open, lights on, cricket bat poised to hit whatever is there............
Great, the cats have got a squirrel.
Furthermore, the cats are now torturing the aforementioned squirrel, and each time it tries to make a break for it, they claw it again, hence the squeals.
When i burst in (looking ridiculous in boxer shorts, a dressing gown, and mrs emsmans pink slippers, still ready to swing the old SS jumbo-which is an old cricket bat, and not some form of deranged euphenism) even the cats stop their sadism for a moment, look at me with such utter contempt, I swear I blushed.
Sensing his moment, a very second hand looking tufty makes a break for it (did he look left and right first? did he buggery), straight past me, into the lounge, and well, that was the last i saw of him for a couple of minutes.
The cats gave chase, over the sofa, spooking poor old tufty, who then makes off up the curtains. He then sits and waits (for what i have no idea) whilst the cats are going mental as they cant reach him.
Stalemate.
Back into the kitchen- which now resembles an operating theatre on a bad day- bits of fluff everywhere, a little piece of ear (and if I may add, a fitting tribute to mr Tarentino's work).
Kettle on.
Right. What to do next? I cant leave the thing there dying, as it will no doubt will in the near future. Im not cruel enough to let the cats finish the job.
The cats are now circling below the curtains, wondering how to get up there.
So, a big cardboard box is needed. Grab one from the shed, back in to find the squirrel gone.
Bugger.
And where are the cats?
Great. The grisly spectacle is now continuing upstairs by the sounds of it.
Being an old cottage, the stairs are tight, so trying to get the box up them isnt going to work.
Sod it. I would have no qualms about shooting a squirrel, so shouldnt really take pity on this one- it is after all, what cats do. Up i go, pondering the best way to dispatch an injured rodent with a cricket bat, without hitting one of the cats (although its bloody tempting).
No need. Tufty got himself a turbo, and is positively flying round the landing. Sure, a couple of ormanents were broken, but he is still very much in the game- the cats are nowhere near fast enough.
Then, the jump he never made. A huge leap, into the wall. Then nothing.
Game over.
A split second later, the cats arrive, sniff at it, then leave it- and one has the audacity to get straight on my bed, curl up and nod off.
Rodents are only fun when alive it would seem.
So, whats the best type of sack to drown a couple of cats?
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
Brilliant.
Although, I am disappointed that the story didn't extend as far as squirrel jumping on your head, clawing you followed by being attacked by the cats - a subsequent scratch resulting in some kind of rabies induced stagger in to the road with you then being hit by a dog riding a motability scooter and 2 weeks in a coma.
Perhaps 2010 will be better for you after all
Although, I am disappointed that the story didn't extend as far as squirrel jumping on your head, clawing you followed by being attacked by the cats - a subsequent scratch resulting in some kind of rabies induced stagger in to the road with you then being hit by a dog riding a motability scooter and 2 weeks in a coma.
Perhaps 2010 will be better for you after all
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Emsman said:
st_files said:
Ahhh...the old SS Jumbo...what lump of willow that was.....
A very original 4 scoop no less. Lovely old batI had a choice of that, my dear old Slazenger V12 or my much treasured Len Hutton autograph, but that is far too nice for vermin.
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