Clive Ate A Bad Thing – Why cats shouldn’t eat bad things…

Clive Ate A Bad Thing – Why cats shouldn’t eat bad things…

Sometimes cats eat things they shouldn’t. Often, as with annoying infant children, they’re completely unaware that they shouldn’t be eating this thing. Even as the evidence streams endlessly from their angry and tender anus following a particularly unwelcome ingestion, they seem oblivious to the do’s and don’ts of the digestive system.

Clive is the eater of bad things in our household. Although both Bailey and Harvey have had their moments, they’re mostly aware that while chewing objects is tasty and mostly acceptable (although not always to me), ingesting anything that isn’t nailed down is ill-advised.
Clive on the other hand will gladly give anything a try so, over the years, I’ve been forced to design the layout of my home with the little ginger moron at the forefront of my mind.
If I leave that bottle of bleach there, is he likely to try to chew it open and swig it down like a melodramatic ginger emo? What about that dishcloth, or the sellotape, or that bowl of thumb tacks? I needn’t worry about food, Clive is many things but he’s not a food thief, he prefers inedible objects – particularly of the dangerous variety.

As a result, the house is essentially “idiot proofed” to the point where even I struggle to find what I’m looking for at times.
I was fairly confident I’d dealt with the most obvious and risky items commonly found in the household. I even installed those little tie clips for my blind strings to keep them safely out of the way, not because I expect my cats to hang themselves (although that’s perfectly plausible, they are that moronic at times) but because I fully expect that Clive would attempt to eat the blind cords like the complete dipshit he is. What I’d failed to anticipate though, was his ability to improvise.

Curtain tassels. You know the ones – those pretty tie backs you wrap around your curtains to frame your window because you’re old and your life basically ended when you realised that every day you basically relive the movie Groundhog Day, so you decorate your windows while you weep into a glass of gin, all the while hoping it may help you feel a little bit less dead inside. Yep, those are the ones.

Well, as it turns out, if you shred them with enough enthusiasm you can create a cascade of beautiful, golden string. And what do you do with that cascade of beautiful, golden string as it rains down around you? Well you eat it of course; I mean, who wouldn’t? You slurp it down like you’re a shitty version of the little grey dog in Lady and the Tramp and you savour each and every thread like it’s your last fucking meal.

Of course, what goes down must continue going down. And up. And everywhere else. So what do you do? You upchuck, open one’s bowels, scatter bomb the furnishings, do what’s necessary to prevent an intestinal catastrophe.
I suppose I should be thankful that Clive managed to regurgitate his way back to digestive health as it saved me a hefty vet bill for emergency bowel surgery, but ideally I’d prefer he simply came to understand that eating household objects is just not OK. Last time we had an incident like this, he licked up a tube of glitter and shat out Christmas cards for a week.

After a distressing hour spent cleaning up Clive’s “incident”, I’ve now removed the tassels. I’ll have to find another way to make myself feel less dead inside because frankly, after expunging that spillage from my carpets, I feel so far beyond dead inside I might as well form a heavy metal band, pierce my eyelids and rename the cats to Dante, Ace and Ozzy.

#OhGodWhy #GingerForSale #YouAteWhatttt

Eating Bad Things

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