Requesting Funny Pet Stories

@LadyNighteyes Hard to tell, given how long ago it was, but I'm inclined towards weird and perverse since that budgie loved my grandpa and would 'guard' him while he napped and even grandpa couldn't get away with wearing a hat.

 

So I have two friends who each owned a black cat. The friends started dating and moved in together, so they had two black cats who were like sisters. Not very close sisters. Sisters who found each other somewhat exasperating and didn't appreciate the other getting too much in their space but also had a deeper understanding about the truly important things such as boys. More on that later.

Big Sis was the queen of all she surveyed. She was either a large house cat or a very small panther. You would never know she was a snuggly bunny from how aloof she appeared.

Little Sis was a tiny, fluffy goof. A bit uncoordinated for a cat, and alternately a lump with ears or a skittish energy demon if no one was looking. The softest kitty.

Big Sis liked to hang out in the kitchen where she had a view of the patio and yard through the sliding glass door. One day in the summer they had everything but the screen door open to let in the breeze. That's when a third black cat showed up, a tom cat from somewhere in the neighborhood.

So here's how it stands: both my friends' cats are spayed, but this guy seems interested nonetheless, and Big Sis at least seems curious as well. He comes by often and the two of them commune for hours from opposite sides of the screen.

In the end it's not enough for him. He manages to get a paw around the edge of the door and pushes it open until he can shoulder his way into the house. He must see her! They must be together! Or ya know, at least do the do.

But his entrance has attracted attention. There on the threshold he is met with the Temporary Sisterly Alliance for Territorial Annihilation and they are very interested to know what shit through yonder screen door breaks. The Alliance's official diplomatic stance on the matter is Get The Fuck Off Our Balcony, Romeo.

I hear tell there was incredible hissing and those dangerous meows that start out aggressive and drop down an octave into the pitch of imminent claws.

Oh, he ran. He bolted right back through the gap he'd created, fled across the yard, and never darkened their patio again.

 

As a preteen, I owned no skirts, for sensory processing reasons, and dressed pretty casually. Upon entering high school, I had to wear a skirt and blazer as uniform; when he first saw me in it, the dog growled and backed away.

 

@Derpyteacakes

 

My parents have a conure (peach fronted) who hates hats. He sneakily destroyed the rim of my mom's favorite baseball hat.

He also likes to get into trouble, and if you can't hear him talking to himself, he's probably asleep or doing something he shouldn't, like hiding in the fridge or drinking out of your water glass or chewing on rare books.

 

So today when I came home from school I found Mum sitting on the floor by the fireplace, laughing, while the dog tried to get a ball out of her tire toy with her mouth (which didn't fit in the hole), while the bird watched from the kitchen windowsill quietly and mournfully repeating the word "ball" like some kind of sports ghost.

After a few minutes the dog had picked up the tire toy and had moved from trying to get the ball to trying to run with a tire on her face-her muzzle was through the hole and the tire toy was kind of lying over her eyes?? dog why

I went to get the eggs, dog was trying to get a different, larger ball out of the tire toy with her face. Went to get changed, came back to find the dog sitting in the middle of the floor looking proud and no sign of either toy. Mum had started responding to every mournful "ball" with "elephant".

So I came back to: a mysteriously proud dog, vanishing dog toys, a soft mournful avian repetition of the word "ball" and Mum repeatedly saying "elephant!"

The bird probably stopped saying "ball...ball...ball..." when Mum took her outside, but for all I know Mum's gardening with the avian sports ghost on her head.

 

So I own 5 African land snails who really like to bury themselves in the soil in their tank. One of them, Breakdown, sometimes disappears for a couple of days at a time doing this (I'm very sure they can't get out) but usually a little digging will reveal him. So today I was looking for him in all his usual spots, no matter how much moss and dirt I moved around I couldn't spot him and I started getting ready worried.

So I took the other snails out of the tank and started going through the substrate handful by handful, methodical, one side of the tank to the other.

He was sat in the very furthest corner from where I started, peering up at me with those little tiny beady stalk eyes as though demanding to know why I'd disturbed his nap.

Then I put the others back in the tank and Megatron decided he just HAD to crawl right over Soundwave's face to get to the food, despite Soundwave's protests and Starscream trying to crawl in the other direction. For such simple creatures they have so much personality

 

Our rabbits love kale and spring greens. They tend to get a lump of one or the other first thing in the morning before my partner and I leave for work. We ran out on Monday so I popped to the supermarket on my way home. No kale. No spring greens. I called my partner and asked what I should do, and he suggested seeing if there were any brussel sprouts we could try them with. Luckily there were, so I grabbed a bag and headed home.

Later that evening I came downstairs for a drink and my partner was standing by the rabbit pen giggling. Turns out he'd given them a couple of brussels to see how they reacted. Jeff caught on pretty quick and went to town on one. Wilbur... bless his heart, I love him dearly, but he is just not a very bright rabbit. He couldn't work out how to get the brussel in to his mouth, as it was round and kept rolling away every time he went to bite it. He tried a few times, stared at it for a bit, then looked over at Jeff. Jeff was happily chewing away. Somewhere in Wilbur's little rabbit brain, a light went on. Jeff was eating. He was not. His food must have been broken somehow, and Jeff got the one that worked!

So he went and nicked the brussel right out from under Jeff's nose. Then proceeded to do laps around the pen with it gripped tightly in his jaws while Jeff gave chase.

We ended up cutting all of the brussels in to halves before feeding them next. This seems to have done the trick.

 

Before I was born my parents were the proud owners of what was probably not actually the worst house in Texas, but not for lack of effort on its part.

It was built on top of a bunch of concrete pillars because I guess the soil couldn't be trusted to be supportive, and indeed had eroded away in areas, leaving places where it was possible to crawl under the house. A family of wild cats had moved in under the downstairs bathroom.

My mom once mused that that might have had something to do with why their own cat, a sweet, chubby Siamese with huge eyes, was such a bundle of nerves. I'm guessing it was more her base personality, but I suppose we'll never know for sure.

One day my mom had washed some sheets and hung them outside on the clothesline to dry. She had the jumpy but enthusiastic cat with her on a harness. She had attached the end of the leash to an unused line on the clothesline contraption to allow for more roaming range.

I'm not exactly sure how she managed to startle the cat so badly. I think she might have stepped inside and come back out.

In any case, when my mom approaches the general vicinity, she does indeed startle the ever living hell out of the cat, whose tail goes all stiff and bristled like a pipe cleaner as she bolts at top speed in the opposite direction. She also begins to pee.

She reaches the end of leash range fairly quickly. She is going very fast, so fast her momentum carries her into the air, lifted by the harness. She then rebounds, sailing back down the entire length of the clothesline, spinning gently, still peeing.

The cat recovers herself admirably, slightly bewildered by her unexpected flight. My mom has to rewash all the sheets.

 

So today, when I went to feed the chickens, I came back inside to find the parrot on the kitchen windowsill.
I went to pick her up and she tried to step up onto my hand before my hand was actually close enough for that to work and so fell off the windowsill onto the bench.

Doofus bird.
(She is fine and currently napping on my door.)

 

a+ dinosaur right there

 

Apparently the puppy has repeatedly found fledgling baby birds, picked them up in his mouth, walked around with them, been coerced into dropping them by a human, ushered inside, and the bird was just fine and got away nothing more than rather traumatized.

He is very strange.

 

My sister has a new kitten. The first night at his new home, he spooked when my sister closed the blinds and now Bean has decided that the blinds are his mortal enemy and attacks them repeatedly throughout the night

 

@LadyNighteyes he's trying to make friends! he's just, you know, not v good at birbs

@theambernerd yes perf this will be a good catte

 

It's the owners that make this so funny, but...

A bit over a year ago a stray cat started pestering my boyfriend's family for attention. First they were putting food out for her, then made a place for her to sleep outside, then letting her in, and now they have a cat. My boyfriend named her Ziggy after David Bowie, because she has one blue eye and one green. Recently they took her to get her vaccinations updated and to find out if she had any microchip data, and they received some surprising news.

Spoiler: i. just.

Ziggy is male.

it's been more than a year

how?

 

Spoiler: let's keep this suspenseful

External indicators aren't always terribly emphasized or reliable, especially in younger cats. We took one of the local ferals-turned-adoptees into the vet to have 'her' spayed, and even the vet was convinced this cat was female until she actually had him anesthetized and cut open and didn't see a uterus or associated organs anywhere.

Bobby is none the worse for that adventure, thankfully, and did end up properly castrated :P By all other indicators he was about two years old when we managed to get him into a carrier and off to the vet, he just... had the tiniest balls ever.

 

Spoiler: dun dun duuunnn

My Papa's late cat, now named "Dude" after the discovery (and after the Dude) went through the same thing. Since they found him living under the house while they were still in Arkansas, they think he was 'booted'

Spoiler: animal cruelty, home surgery

they stuff the kitten head first in a boot and cut the balls off with a knife, which often leaves less residual mass

which is apparently not an uncommon practice in fuckoffsville, nowhere. No wonder he noped out and went semi-feral until Papa found him and spoiled him.

 

is there a thing with names associated with david bowie? 'cause my quaker parrot it named ziggy and we were really surprised when our "male" bird started laying eggs...

 

reason why the dog was crying: she wanted the cashew the bird had eaten instead of the other half of her dog treat

 

My dad had a goat, and he had a pen but no appropriate shelter for it. So they moved a tireless Volkswwagen bug into the enclosure and left the doors open for the goat. The goat ate l i t e r a l l y everything in the car that wasn't metal- the steering wheel, the knob on the end of the gear shift, the headliner, all the dashboard, the knobs off of the radios, the car seats except for the frames and the springs.