How to Wash Your Cat

HOW TO CLEAN YOUR TOILET AND WASH YOUR CAT AT THE SAME TIME.

Instructions:

1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.

2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.

3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids. You may need to sit on the lid.

4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.

5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash" “and rinse".

6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.

7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids.

8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.

YOUR CAT AND COMMODE WILL BOTH BE SPARKLING CLEAN.

What Pets Write in Their Diaries

Excerpts from a Dog’s Diary…

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 PM - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Milk Bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

Excerpts from a Cat’s Daily Diary...

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow—but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released—and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now…

Here Kitty Kitty

What most of us have known to be true, is on trial to be proved.

We should never be fooled by the pretty red bow that our cat is wearing. We should never be fooled by the soft purring sounds they make as we rub them.

Or so says notorious “self-defense” cat killer Joseph Petcka. Mr. Petcka took the witness stand in Manhattan last Thursday and described his victim—Norman, the orange house tabby—as a raging, rearing, growling banshee.

Petcka told jurors that Norman, his girlfriend'’ little kitty, brought on his own demise by attacking twice—maybe three times—that night in March 2007.

The tall, dashing, out-of-work actor spoke so dramatically about little Norman’s angry “stance”—and about how the cat “lunged” and “reared” and “threw me on my butt”—that for 90 minutes of testimony, it was almost possible to forget that Norman was fully declawed and weighed only 7 3/4 pounds. Did you read that? This man-killer weights less than 8 pounds and is totally declawed!

Mr. Petcka said, “Norman came and lunged at me, throwing me on my butt by the coffee table. I went down with my hands down toward Norman, and Norman reared around and bit into my hand, into my thumb area. I was screaming, ‘Uhhh! Norman! Get off of me! Uhhh’”

Now, let’s not lose site of this fact: Mr. Petcka, who is 37-years-old, and is a 6-foot-2, 210-pound former Mets minor league pitcher.

I’m sorry. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but something sounds wrong with this story. I know cats have sharp teeth, I understand that. But, did this former minor league baseball player really have no other option but to kill the cat?

Seems to me that he could have just walked away. I’m pretty sure that would have made a better impression on his girlfriend. I don’t know that I know many pet owners who would just accept you killing their animal like this.

Then again, maybe the cat was a Yankee fan!