[TheForge] cats very ot

Thu May 27 16:46:52 EDT 2004

There's a wild one, ferral (spelling) that visits my forge and sits on the
anvil from time to time.  Helps keep the mice population down, and is people
shy.  We sort of watch out for him/her.

	Don't know if I mentioned this on this board, but I was playing with
my cat, and he won.  Evil mean cruel nasty beast he is.
	Anyway, I had just opened a fresh beer.  Hadn't even taken a sip out
of it.  And, trying to be nice to the beast, I went and got the mouse
hanging from a fishing pole that the wife had made for us.  Well, as I was
playing him toward my sitting place, at a critical juncture, he lunged at
the mouse, thus removing my attention from my navigation.  WHACK.  I walked
right into a wooden box.  From the impact, I doubled over, and thusly
spilled my beer all in my seat.  I said the appropraite cuss words.  The
wife from the other room called if I was ok.  I said "^#$^@*#$^*@# no, I
just spilled my beer in my seat."
	She brought me a towel, and after I picked up my beer and put it
back in it's place, I looked down at my sock.  Something was sticking out at
a right angle.  But it didn't hurt.  I took off the sock.  Now do this, hold
your hand in front of your face, palm away, with the fingers sticking
straight up at the ceiling.  Now, take your other hand, and bend your thumb
as far as it will happily go towards the floor.  That's what I had.  It was
like a car that had a broken tie rod.  All wheels were pointing forward, but
one of the front ones was doing it's best to lead them in another
direction<G>.
	During all of this, I just happened to look toward the cat.  He was
giving me one of those questioning looks of "why the ^&#@@$ did you stop
playing with me."  You know that look, like I had just sipped out of his
water bowl or something.  Obviously Mr. cat did not understand spilled beer
or broke toe.
	Well, I went to the emergency room.  Very nice foreign fella there.
Indian, not American Indian.  He took xrays and decided that he should set
the toe.  Still, the toe was looking out the right side window.  The nurse
gave me one of those horse shots.  You know those kind of shots.  The thing
in her hand looked like a pringles can with a soda straw for a needle.  I
wasn't particularly happy about this.
	After about 10 minutes the Doctor came back in, and in his very best
"APU (remember Apu from the Simpsons)" voice said, "how are you feeling?"  I
said something like "about the same."  He looked into my eyes and said "Oh,
you're a big one, and very wide awake.  I think I will come back later."
	Well, later on he set the bone (the shot didn't do much).  He took
my leg under his arm, and did what best I can describe as placing the little
toe in an electric pipe threading machine.  
	And for the next 2 1/2 weeks, all I could do was whimper at the lost
opportunities at the forge....sigh.  
	The cat....well, he still tries to drink out of my water (an animal
that does personal hygiene chores with his tongue does NOT get first dibs on
my water!!), and wakes me up each morning 10 minutes before the alarm goes
off.  I guess he's ok for a cat<G>.  He's about 27 pounds dry<G>.
	Post script.
	The insurance company called my wife to see if they could find
someone to sue for the costs of my hospital visit.  The wife, very dead pan,
instructed the individual that it was the cat's fault.  But since the cat
had yet to pay us back what it cost to get him fixed, she didn't really
expect the insurance company to have better results.  But certainly they
were free to try<G>.

-----Original Message-----
From: theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net
[mailto:theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net] On Behalf Of Ron Childers
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2004 3:21 PM
To: 'Sponsored by ABANA'
Subject: RE: [TheForge] cats

Well, I've never met you guys, but it's good to know my fellow
blacksmiths/cat people are not afraid of whom they are or their own
sexuality / masculinity and are intelligent enough to know you don't control
cats. 

-----Original Message-----
From: theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net
[mailto:theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net] On Behalf Of Grover Richardson
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2004 3:07 PM
To: 'Sponsored by ABANA'
Subject: RE: [TheForge] Grave Marker (patina) cats

The wife's favorite 4 pounder, when she gets up at night to visit the
necessary room, the cat walks behind her, bitching all the way, until she
gets back in bed.  Then the cat lays BACK down on her hip, as if to hold her
down.

Now, my favorite is a 27 pound Maine Coon.  And the wife's favorite is his
girl friend.  At times, it looks like he is helping himself to a bit of the
floor, until one sees that there are two tails, and thence realizes that the
floor is not the subject of his affection<G>.

-----Original Message-----
From: theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net
[mailto:theforge-bounces at mailman.qth.net] On Behalf Of Phlip
Sent: Thursday, May 27, 2004 1:56 PM
To: Sponsored by ABANA
Subject: Re: [TheForge] Grave Marker (patina)

Ene bichizh ogsen baina shuu...

> Don't own a cat, John?
>
> To cooperate or express an opinion, a cat would have to lower itself
> to merely mortal.
>
> Frosty

No one owns a cat, Frosty. One sufferes from them, or is possessed by them,
but one is never in charge of them...

Saint Phlip,  possessed by 3, and suffering from a 4th.
CoDoLDS

"When in doubt, heat it up and hit it with a hammer."  Blacksmith's credo.

 If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it is probably not a cat.

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