
Originally Posted by
Clirkus
I had a mouse once. A mouth with a deathwish that would not die. A mouse that chased my cat while it was in its hamster ball thingy, and also went down the stairs, had a seizure, nearly died of starvation cuz my sister didn't feed the mice, got old and sick, recovered, then finally keeled over dead.
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Then there's the cat. We have two cats, but when we say "The Cat" we always mean my cat. Cuddles, because that's the kind of name the kitty gets when you let a six-year-old name their pet. It stuck. Cuddles is not as harmless as his name implies, although he is very fluffy. Cuddles was the neighborhood badcat and fought of ferals like there was no tomorrow, dragging himself home all bloody and beat up, recover for a few days, then go out again. Repeatedly leaving the whole, disemboweld, or beheaded corpses of countless mice, shrews, and moles. Sometimes a bat, less often a bird. Chupmunks, baby bunnies, and just last week a headless squirrel. But his most famous catch was a weasel a few years ago.
He's 11 now, a veteran, dog-hater. Enjoying retirement in a plush kitty bed, still bringing dead mice to me almost every night. Good kitty.
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I've always wanted a ball python, btw.
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I've always wanted a pet skunk too.