Beanpie, my Black Cat.
He was
still a very small kitty. Just as cute as a button. He was 2.5 months
old. I took him to pet smart to be weighed, as he was in need of milk,
and food, and I wanted to give him adequate portions. So the store clerk
took him to the back where the scale was. The scale was huge, big
enough for a St. Bernard, but it was calibrated so that it could
properly weigh Beanpie. OK, so he was pretty good about that old
chestnut. The drama came when he got off the scale, he got so excited
seeing the birdcages, smelling hamsters, and such. I had to keep him
from jumping out of my arms, I rushed to my car. Sat in the front seat
with him. He was still antsy, so I turned him loose. Do you know he
climbed into my dashboard, from underneath the steering wheel? OMG, I
tried to catch him, by his tail, he just kept going. He stayed inside
that dashboard for 5 hours, I had to drive home thinking that the
mechanics of the steering wheel were ripping him to shreads.
Ocassionally, he'd meow. I felt absolutely horrible like I was killing
him. I called the fire dept, all they said was "we can smash the
dashboard for you". I was like, ssppptaaaah! I think not, period. Gone
are the days of big strong firemen rescueing helpless kitties outa'
trees, go figure.
So I went
outside, got upside down in my car feet up to the roof, head underneath
the dashboard, and took catnip into a straw, and kept spreading, and
blowing and shooting it out from the straw into the open space, then he
starting playing with the straw, and he must have started feeling the
nip coz brother man finally just tumbled out like a little goof. I read
him the riot act. He came into the house, ate, had a nice poop, and we
never discussed it again.
Edited by Anomis - October 06 2007 at 9:00pmWow thats crazy you have to control that cat it's a black cat so let me keep my fingers crossed for good luck :)
Karen Shelton2015-08-04 18:46:11
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