Discussion Forum

"A cat may look at a King". A simple phrase, and yet it speaks home.

They do a deal of looking, cats.

"Morning Mrs Tetrahedron. How's the cat?"

"Oh, it's not looking well at all, Mrs Pyramid."

"That's a shame. What else can a cat do, if not look?"

I'd give the buggers something to look at. The Sinaitic Palimpsest, of the 4th century, say, or an ice sculpture of Lord and Lady Carnarvon at the races, or the Morse Code version of Mein Kampf.

Have a go at that lot, Tiddles.

We haven't got a cat any more. They all died. Doris got killed by next door's bastard of a fucking dog (And the fat bitch never apologised) Beryl was coughing up blood and had to be put to sleep, and Scrappy got bitten by a fox and took herself off to die, before returning a week later and quietly shuffling off her feline coil in our back kitchen. I was stroking her head as she breathed her last. It was dead sad.

On a related note:

A few weeks ago, our back fence blew down in a storm, and we had a handwritten note slipped through our door from the fat bitch next door saying

"We will be getting a Rottweiler puppy within two weeks, so you may want to repair the fence so thet the dog cannot get into your property."

Which in essence means that they'll leave the fucking thing in the back garden all day, like they did with the bastard bull terrier. Fucking chavs. Cunting pikey bastards.

I'm not telling the fuckers that we've got a snow leopard, some fruit bats, and a Siberian tiger, not to mention Arm living in the shed now the weather's better.

When Armageddon befalls the fuckers and they they demand to know what's going on, I'll just shrug my shoulders and say :

"Well you didn't ask."

Just let the arseholes wait til I invite Lynton over to conduct his pyrotechnic experiments in our shed. That'll show the cat murdering, car park hogging pikey fuckwits that it isn't recommended to fuck with the Shuttlecocks.

Regards

Martin & Anne Shuttlecock

Broadmoor.

If you want to annoy them there's a dye called Malachite Green - it's very strong and a little goes a long way. Particles get everywhere and when it rains tiny green rivers appear as if from nowhere. It's a particular bugger if it's on the car windscreen or the washing. They wont see it because it's too fine. Just a sprinkle as you pass the car or dust borne on the wind on washday - that's all it needs. Together with razor wire and some tetrahedral spikes they should get the message.

More cruel but pleasurable to onlookers is a the most bitter tasting product known to man. Now that on a door handle or two would get them gasping the moment a hand touches the mouth. It's called Denatonium benzoate (phenylmethyl-[2- [(2,6-dimethylphenyl)amino]- 2-oxoethyl]-diethylammonium benzoate).

Pyrotechnics aren't subtle enough. Nor can they easily be denied.

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Quote: Skoob1999

We haven't got a cat any more. They all died. Doris got killed by next door's bastard of a fucking dog (And the fat bitch never apologised) Beryl was coughing up blood and had to be put to sleep, and Scrappy got bitten by a fox and took herself off to die, before returning a week later and quietly shuffling off her feline coil in our back kitchen. I was stroking her head as she breathed her last. It was dead sad.

On a related note:

A few weeks ago, our back fence blew down in a storm, and we had a handwritten note slipped through our door from the fat bitch next door saying

"We will be getting a Rottweiler puppy within two weeks, so you may want to repair the fence so thet the dog cannot get into your property."

Which in essence means that they'll leave the fucking thing in the back garden all day, like they did with the bastard bull terrier. Fucking chavs. Cunting pikey bastards.

I'm not telling the fuckers that we've got a snow leopard, some fruit bats, and a Siberian tiger, not to mention Arm living in the shed now the weather's better.

When Armageddon befalls the fuckers and they they demand to know what's going on, I'll just shrug my shoulders and say :

"Well you didn't ask."

Just let the arseholes wait til I invite Lynton over to conduct his pyrotechnic experiments in our shed. That'll show the cat murdering, car park hogging pikey fuckwits that it isn't recommended to fuck with the Shuttlecocks.

Regards

Martin & Anne Shuttlecock

Broadmoor.

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Skoob,

Don't repair the fence, and accidentally mow the lawn while the puppy is frolicking in the long grass.

Minced dead puppy was recommended as a great compost material on yesterday's Gardner's World.

Iain

I feel your pain, Skoob.

We used to have cats when we lived out in the country, they were great.

But in a more settled environment they can be a terrible nuisance.

I would never harm a living creature but we have a number of dreadful black cats next door. Basically they shit in your garden, they shat on the doorstep once, they never shit on their own doorstep. Oh, and they kill birds.

I mean, it would have been nice to have been asked. "We are thinking of getting four black cats. You don't mind if they come and shit on your property, spoiling your flower beds and contaminating your very doorstep, do you now? And it's OK if they kill the birds you like to feed, too, isn't it?"

None of this pertains to the appalling behaviour of your neighbour of course.

A deterrent is what we need, a humane deterrent. You struggle to get near them with even a powerful water-gun.

Leylandii, that's the answer.
Plant a couple this spring and by Christmas they'll be 10-12 foot.
Usually gets the message across in broken fence disputes.
Yew - that's another goody, the bright red berries are poisonous to dogs.
Otherwise an electrified but of cattle-proofing works a treat too.

It ain't the dog's fault. The puppy probably never saw these meatheads coming and now he's gotta put up with them the same as Skoob.

Go after the neighbors, not the defenseless dog. My suggestion is make friends with the dog while he's still a puppy. Teach him commands that only the two of you know like "owner--KILL!" Then when the time comes, issue the command. Through the newly repaired fence of course.

Charpa

P.S. I've got 4 cats. Nicest cats in the world. But they do like the neighbors' cars, ironically right after a good rain. But try telling a cat he can't do something. right. How can something you love so much equally frustrate the hell out of you?

I'd never hurt an animal. People - I have no problem there. The sad truth is that these people - who rent the house, as opposed to owning it - aren't fit to keep any kind of pet. That's why the bull terrier went mental and crashed the fence and killed the cat. The poor bastard was frustrated.

They got rid of that. It was too much trouble to exercise it. The fat sow next door could do with regular exercise, and a fucking bag over her head.

She once rang the doorbell to complain that our grandkids playing in our back garden were upsetting the dog.

When Mrs S showed her the extending fist of doom, she fucked off sharpish.

Some good ideas here.

I'm learning that if you want to be a neighbour from hell, you only have to sign up as a Spoofer. I'm not that subtle - I like fires and fights and stufflike that.

Just kiddin'

Or am I?

Regards

Skoob.

In York when we were house hunting we rented a place. The neighbour there told us that she lured cats into the garage to shoot them with an air gun. Her old man kept pigeons.

She was barmy as a bog brush and she'd passed some of her genes on to her boy who, poor lad, was not endowed with much grey matter and couldn't string a sentence together. She went mad when the head of his school said he was retarded and ought to go in a remedial class at a special school. Her daughter was on the way to being 7ft tall when we left but I'm not sure where those genes came from. She probably takes size 13 shoes by now.