Wednesday, 12 August 2009

Why boxes shouldn't trust cats

I was born into an illustrious family, and am a direct descendant of such noble boxes as the Great Zigguratical Box of Ur, the world's first cabaret dancing box, La Boxy de Voom-Voom, and the Snuff Box Stolen By the Bloke Who Got Done In By the Constabulary for Stealing It. Although my own aspirations were humble, I was ready to acquit my boxly duty with dignity and continence.

So naturally, I expected that once the $30 r.r.p. radiant heater had been eased out of my innards, I'd be stuffed with old newspapers and borne gratefully out to the recycling bin. No one mentioned the feline teeth of doom.

Or the feline acts of sequestration and pouncing.

Or the feline sitting inside one for the easier dismantling of one's person.

Or the feline nibbling of the corners.

Or that within five days one would have ceased to be a box at all.

6 comments:

Maria said...

Mice shouldn't trust cats either. Or so I've heard.

We've had some mousy visitors at our house and we're trying, to, errh, round them up and have a word with them. But they're awfully difficult to round up.

Would a cat be interested in jumping into a box, marked "Maria's House, Sydney" and do a little mouse-coaxing, you think?

Ampersand Duck said...

Gosh, doesn't it look like a carcass in the last photo?

Cats + boxes = love. My cats are the same.

OMG! WV = nomkmets

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

I'm very conflicted about the mouses and the cats, Maria. I sometimes fantasise about bringing home a little family of mice and letting Bea and Harry play with them, but then I remember that this is unkind to mice, and mice have never done nout to merit my unkindness.

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

Nomkmets! Swedish kitten food.

TimT said...

Mercy is for the squeak!

Marshall-Stacks said...

I commend you for enabling the fun for those fabulous felines.