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BigBen · 09-21-2005, 08:18 AM

Had to jump in on this one:

My stepmother is a "Cat Person" and my father is definitely not.

A feral cat gave birth beside our house years ago, and the batch of kittens were adorable! They were absolutely terrified of people, and looked at us in the shadows with those sharp, wild eyes.

Except one. He was grey, and so fluffy it was hard to tell which way was forwards and backwards. He laid around our deck, looking for food handouts, and then eventually just walked into the house. He kicked the shit out of the other two cats and sat down to eat both bowls of cat food. None of that sissy kitten food for him!

I fell in love, and named him smoke. My dad was super-pissed that another cat had been "Smuggled in" without his consent, but he was quickly outvoted. We had a new member of the family.

After the trip to the vet to make sure it was healthy, Smoke continued to beat up on the other house cats. They hated him. My dad saw this, and found common ground with the little ball of fluff: They both hated cats. Smoke just happened to be one.

One day, when changing the sheets on the water bed, dad found tiny pinholes in the queen sized bladder. "What the fuck...?" was his response. My stepmom pointed out that Smoke liked to chase the air bubbles on the water bed. It seems that Smoke had put so many holes in the water bed that it was beyond repair. before my stepmom headed out to buy another bladder from the store (I don't know, at least a couple hundred bucks), she specifically said "Don't hurt that cat..."

As soon as she was out the door, dad turned to me: "Catch that fucking cat."

I did what I was told. Smoke looked like he knew he was in trouble. I was absolutely certain that this cat was going to die.

I held the cat, and dad opened the kitchen drawer. Oh shit, he's going to cut its head off...

He came towards us, and in his hand was A PAIR OF FINGERNAIL CLIPPERS!

Dad took one of Smoke's paws and started to gently trim his claws, like a well trained manicurist. I was shocked! He wasn't going to kill the cat after all! Smoke started to struggle, and I grabbed his neck and calmly told him "You don't know how lucky you are. Just sit here and take it."

I realized that my father had dramatically mellowed with age.

Smoke is still around, and is really fat. Like olympic sized fat. Like 25 pounds. His belly drags on the ground when he walks. He's on a special diet, and my dad and stepmom love him to pieces.

09-21-2005, 08:18 AM	#17 (permalink)
BigBen Comedian Location: Use the search button	Had to jump in on this one: My stepmother is a "Cat Person" and my father is definitely not. A feral cat gave birth beside our house years ago, and the batch of kittens were adorable! They were absolutely terrified of people, and looked at us in the shadows with those sharp, wild eyes. Except one. He was grey, and so fluffy it was hard to tell which way was forwards and backwards. He laid around our deck, looking for food handouts, and then eventually just walked into the house. He kicked the shit out of the other two cats and sat down to eat both bowls of cat food. None of that sissy kitten food for him! I fell in love, and named him smoke. My dad was super-pissed that another cat had been "Smuggled in" without his consent, but he was quickly outvoted. We had a new member of the family. After the trip to the vet to make sure it was healthy, Smoke continued to beat up on the other house cats. They hated him. My dad saw this, and found common ground with the little ball of fluff: They both hated cats. Smoke just happened to be one. One day, when changing the sheets on the water bed, dad found tiny pinholes in the queen sized bladder. "What the fuck...?" was his response. My stepmom pointed out that Smoke liked to chase the air bubbles on the water bed. It seems that Smoke had put so many holes in the water bed that it was beyond repair. before my stepmom headed out to buy another bladder from the store (I don't know, at least a couple hundred bucks), she specifically said "Don't hurt that cat..." As soon as she was out the door, dad turned to me: "Catch that fucking cat." I did what I was told. Smoke looked like he knew he was in trouble. I was absolutely certain that this cat was going to die. I held the cat, and dad opened the kitchen drawer. Oh shit, he's going to cut its head off... He came towards us, and in his hand was A PAIR OF FINGERNAIL CLIPPERS! Dad took one of Smoke's paws and started to gently trim his claws, like a well trained manicurist. I was shocked! He wasn't going to kill the cat after all! Smoke started to struggle, and I grabbed his neck and calmly told him "You don't know how lucky you are. Just sit here and take it." I realized that my father had dramatically mellowed with age. Smoke is still around, and is really fat. Like olympic sized fat. Like 25 pounds. His belly drags on the ground when he walks. He's on a special diet, and my dad and stepmom love him to pieces. __________________ 3.141592654 Hey, if you are impressed with my memorizing pi to 10 digits, you should see the size of my penis.