community.webshots.com/photo/421733096/421778163uMALda



Moderator: Orlion
Sorry Dromond,I feel as bad for you and the guilt you have endured as I do for Wally.I have a similar story:I once had a ferret named Muddy-after a little trial and error I became quite confident that if Muddy ventured out in the yard with me for a little fresh air and taste of freedom that he would not run away,he never wandered very far from me.One day I took Muddy out with me,while I was outside someone pulled up-It turned out to be my great uncle and his dog Toby.To make a long story short,befor I realised who it was Toby had streaked towards Muddy and had him in a death grip,slinging him like a dog toy.My response after a moment of horror, wondering what the hell was I going to do was to punch Toby in the side of the head as hard as I could-It took two punches to make him drop Muddy.Muddy was dead,I figure from a broken neck.I do not feel bad about punching Toby,but I do feel lots of guilt about exposing Muddy,a small tame defenseless animal to danger.I should have kept him on a harnessDromond wrote:Thirty years ago, I was 15 and we moved to a place I didn't wan't to go to.
My cat Wally didn't like the move either, and soon after, pooped on the dining room rug.
Now, I know that it's a way for a pet to express its unhappiness with the new surroundings, but I didn't know it then.
I was young, stupid, unhappy, and I rubbed his nose in it , smacked him, screamed 'NO and watched him look up at me in terror, and run out the front door... never to be seen again.
It bothers me still...his last days, weeks, I don't know, spent feeling betrayed, I hope someone made his last years happy and peaceful.
I never hit an animal before and of course since, I've had just a few pets and and buried them as they died, great companions, they were.
I just can't shake the guilt of that one malfunction. RIP,Wally.
High Lord Tolkien wrote:Dromond,
I also have almost the exact same story.
My wife picked up a stray cat from her work.
It was half feral, I guess.
It didn't go near anyone else but her and even then she had to spend 20 minutes to coax him out from under the bed.
When we moved into our house we had to keep him in the cellar because we have 2 other normal cats and a mellow older dog.
He pissed all over the place.
Let me describe cat piss to everyone here.
It is totally bogus!
It will never I mean NEVER come out of a rug.
Forget about it.
Just pull the rug up, throw it away and pray it didn't seep into the wood below it.
Because it it did you migt need to burn the house down to get rid of it.
So, anyway, this little bastard cat god-damn RUINED the half finished cellar of my first and probably only house I'll ever have.
I've never wanted an animal to die painfully so bad in my life.
After a year of my life revolving around a mental defective cat my wife got pregnant.
I was so happy!!!
Yeah, first kid yadda yadda yadda.... NO! now I had a reason to get rid of the cat.
"Honey, seriously, we can't have a psycho cat in the house with a baby."
A week later I had to keep my mouth shut and not jump for joy when we took the cat to be put to sleep.
I almost cried tears of happiness as the "pink stuff" was injected in and that little piece of sh#t stopped breathing.
Yeah, my story is just like yours....
![]()
It's been 7 years and the cellar still smells on humid days.
![]()
Easy, fella, okay? We don't all hate cats here.
Spoiler
The above story has been modified for comedic shock effect. Though the author was happy to have the cat gone it was still sad at the same time
High Lord Tolkien wrote:Dromond,
I also have almost the exact same story.
My wife picked up a stray cat from her work.
It was half feral, I guess.
It didn't go near anyone else but her and even then she had to spend 20 minutes to coax him out from under the bed.
When we moved into our house we had to keep him in the cellar because we have 2 other normal cats and a mellow older dog.
He pissed all over the place.
Let me describe cat piss to everyone here.
It is totally bogus!
It will never I mean NEVER come out of a rug.
Forget about it.
Just pull the rug up, throw it away and pray it didn't seep into the wood below it.
Because it it did you migt need to burn the house down to get rid of it.
So, anyway, this little bastard cat god-damn RUINED the half finished cellar of my first and probably only house I'll ever have.
I've never wanted an animal to die painfully so bad in my life.
After a year of my life revolving around a mental defective cat my wife got pregnant.
I was so happy!!!
Yeah, first kid yadda yadda yadda.... NO! now I had a reason to get rid of the cat.
"Honey, seriously, we can't have a psycho cat in the house with a baby."
A week later I had to keep my mouth shut and not jump for joy when we took the cat to be put to sleep.
I almost cried tears of happiness as the "pink stuff" was injected in and that little piece of sh#t stopped breathing.
Yeah, my story is just like yours....
![]()
It's been 7 years and the cellar still smells on humid days.
![]()
Spoiler
The above story has been modified for comedic shock effect. Though the author was happy to have the cat gone it was still sad at the same time