Unofficial Pet Thread
- Thread starter itsBella
- Start date
Beardy Unixer
First time out of the vault
I do seasonal work - so very long shifts in summer to make up for the fact that there are no shifts in winter - away from home, which make it impractical to have pets, so I had a GPD XD instead. But I made the damn thing run Fallout whether it liked it or not, so it's better than a real pet anyway.
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Ayelander
Big Man
Damn, this just made me realise how few pictures I have of my old dog.
That's a good cat.
I have no pets, sadly. Only a bunch of guitars. Do those count? They're good guitars, Bront.
Beardy Unixer
First time out of the vault
No man - if you're doing it properly, a guitar is a lover, not a pet.
MutantScalper
Dogmeat
My ex-dog looked like this. I have pics of her but haven't scanned them. Finnish Spitz, tough hunting dog. She had a strong urge to hunt and killed hedgehogs with one bite if I wasn't quick enough to stop her, led me to some sleeping moose (didn't kill the moose, I was just a kid) etc.
I had only two photos of my cat, but they were lost with my previous computer.
It started with a neighbour adhd-riddled headache, suggesting we get a cat to get rid of the mice in the house
I sat down with him, and explained all the reasons why me, my brother, him, neither of us, were fit to own a cat. He was going away to study, my brother had a very fleeting day to day situation, and I'm not one to really take care of a pet. He understood.
The next day he brought home a tiny, tiny kitten, threw it on the sofa, and went out to party. Adhd in adults, man... jesus christ...
So, he was "officially" the owner, but did nothing ever, so it was up to me and my brother to raise the kitten, teach her basic things, feed her, keep her at night. Both of us wanted to be cold and distant, we did not want to get attached to this being that would surely soon die of neglect, but in reality, how on earth could we?? I did research on cats, body language, how they communicate, and both me and my brother bonded deeply with the cat. In the cats mind, we were now the parents, and the dude who owned her was a passing nuisance who now and then wanted to play and cuddle with her to prove to everyone that he wasnt a neglectful douchebag.
About a year later it's time for me and my brother to move away. We cannot outright steal a dudes pet, so my brother - who was his close friend - offered him an ultimatum, "The cat is yours to keep, sure. But if I ever come to visit you, and spot as much as a HINT of neglect... you and me - are no more."
Upon hearing this, he gracefully offered us to take the cat along with us.
In the new home, I teach the cat to exit and enter through the windows. I know many Americans consider allowing a cat to roam outdoors to be "animal cruelty", because they sometimes hunt birds. I call crap, and here it is considered the opposite - animal abuse to keep a cat indoors for their entire life. My father offered to cash up for all the necesary injections, vaccines, checkups etc, we got her a microchip and we got her neutered. As I said, none of us were REALLY fit to keep a pet, economically speaking, but we made due. If there was shortage of money, we would go hungry, kitty would eat - goes without saying, really. I'm a human, I can know - rationally - that food will be short for a few days. A cat can't understand this in the same way, and will suffer.
During this time, my brother continued with his sometimes erratic life-style, and the cat stayed more and more with me. Drunk outbursts of his put lasting dents in the relationship between the two, something that hurt his feelings, but that he also took responsability for and accepted, so - when it once again was time to move our separate ways, he took it for granted that the cat was now mine to care for.
Six more years she stayed with me, untill one night she vanished, timed well with a psycho-chapter of a mentalcase neighbor threatened to dispose of her, if I made any more "moves" on a hideous carpet he insisted on keeping in front of the shared entrance. I could never prove he did it, and I couldn't do much about it.
Some time later, he tried to assault me, but failed spectacularily. Not because I'm some kind of champion, but because he's that much of an asswipe. The landlord took the situation seriously enough to evict him, and police was contacted, due to the assault attempt also - technically - being a break-in. As is common in these kinds of cases, cops could do absolutely fuckall. However, in my venting of the many insane experiences with this fucking nutjob, they begun to doubt my sincerity. It simply sounded too far fetched, prompting me to articulate a full chronology of events, start to finish.
This summary included the disappearance of my cat, and my certainty of him being responsible. Again, the police officer told me that this was a no-evidence kind of situation, and that there was nothing to be done, but offered a bit of genuine sympathy, being a pet owner herself. This, weirdly, felt a bit like closure, and I felt oddly emotional. I usually do not react much to loss, when it happens - or after.
My cat never had a name, beyond "pus", which translates to "kitty", and she responded to it, often immediately.
I always had a slight bit of patience for my neighbor. Mentally ill, probably undiagnosed autist, reaching his 50s, unable to fix his behaviour. I'm an autist as well. My brother, who is his own kind of mental, offered to "rough him up" - twice, once for christmas, both times I told him to relax, that I can deal with it with patience and resiliance.
After kitty disappeared, any trace of mercy for my neighbor has disappeared. His assault attempt into my flat came directly after I threatened him, which marked the first time in my life I threatened someone.
He is the only human whom I truly, deeply hate, on a personal level. It's been some 7 years since now, and I still would rejoyce would I hear of his demise. I see people on tv forgiving murderers and stuff, because reasons, maybe a murderer was young and without guidance, maybe it was desperate, maybe an accident.
This fucker killed my cat to make a point out of my complaining about his fucking rug. I'm not going to advocate violence or any such, so I will word it thusly: I'd gladly watch. I'd watch all of it.
/vent...
kitty was part norwegian forest cat, part something else. Most her siblings and both her parents were "something else", so the forest cat gene must have skipped around, untill manifesting in her, as stripes, fluff, and a huge mane around the neck
Awesomely patient, we'd do "spider cat" on the ceiling, or wear kitty as a scarf, and sometimes - if she was on the losing end of a territorial fight, I'd get involved. Of course! But played fairly, mind you, I'd go outside, and hiss at rival cats on the lawn. They'd run off the lawn, and kitty would strut super-proud around me.
It started with a neighbour adhd-riddled headache, suggesting we get a cat to get rid of the mice in the house
I sat down with him, and explained all the reasons why me, my brother, him, neither of us, were fit to own a cat. He was going away to study, my brother had a very fleeting day to day situation, and I'm not one to really take care of a pet. He understood.
The next day he brought home a tiny, tiny kitten, threw it on the sofa, and went out to party. Adhd in adults, man... jesus christ...
So, he was "officially" the owner, but did nothing ever, so it was up to me and my brother to raise the kitten, teach her basic things, feed her, keep her at night. Both of us wanted to be cold and distant, we did not want to get attached to this being that would surely soon die of neglect, but in reality, how on earth could we?? I did research on cats, body language, how they communicate, and both me and my brother bonded deeply with the cat. In the cats mind, we were now the parents, and the dude who owned her was a passing nuisance who now and then wanted to play and cuddle with her to prove to everyone that he wasnt a neglectful douchebag.
About a year later it's time for me and my brother to move away. We cannot outright steal a dudes pet, so my brother - who was his close friend - offered him an ultimatum, "The cat is yours to keep, sure. But if I ever come to visit you, and spot as much as a HINT of neglect... you and me - are no more."
Upon hearing this, he gracefully offered us to take the cat along with us.
In the new home, I teach the cat to exit and enter through the windows. I know many Americans consider allowing a cat to roam outdoors to be "animal cruelty", because they sometimes hunt birds. I call crap, and here it is considered the opposite - animal abuse to keep a cat indoors for their entire life. My father offered to cash up for all the necesary injections, vaccines, checkups etc, we got her a microchip and we got her neutered. As I said, none of us were REALLY fit to keep a pet, economically speaking, but we made due. If there was shortage of money, we would go hungry, kitty would eat - goes without saying, really. I'm a human, I can know - rationally - that food will be short for a few days. A cat can't understand this in the same way, and will suffer.
During this time, my brother continued with his sometimes erratic life-style, and the cat stayed more and more with me. Drunk outbursts of his put lasting dents in the relationship between the two, something that hurt his feelings, but that he also took responsability for and accepted, so - when it once again was time to move our separate ways, he took it for granted that the cat was now mine to care for.
Six more years she stayed with me, untill one night she vanished, timed well with a psycho-chapter of a mentalcase neighbor threatened to dispose of her, if I made any more "moves" on a hideous carpet he insisted on keeping in front of the shared entrance. I could never prove he did it, and I couldn't do much about it.
Some time later, he tried to assault me, but failed spectacularily. Not because I'm some kind of champion, but because he's that much of an asswipe. The landlord took the situation seriously enough to evict him, and police was contacted, due to the assault attempt also - technically - being a break-in. As is common in these kinds of cases, cops could do absolutely fuckall. However, in my venting of the many insane experiences with this fucking nutjob, they begun to doubt my sincerity. It simply sounded too far fetched, prompting me to articulate a full chronology of events, start to finish.
This summary included the disappearance of my cat, and my certainty of him being responsible. Again, the police officer told me that this was a no-evidence kind of situation, and that there was nothing to be done, but offered a bit of genuine sympathy, being a pet owner herself. This, weirdly, felt a bit like closure, and I felt oddly emotional. I usually do not react much to loss, when it happens - or after.
My cat never had a name, beyond "pus", which translates to "kitty", and she responded to it, often immediately.
I always had a slight bit of patience for my neighbor. Mentally ill, probably undiagnosed autist, reaching his 50s, unable to fix his behaviour. I'm an autist as well. My brother, who is his own kind of mental, offered to "rough him up" - twice, once for christmas, both times I told him to relax, that I can deal with it with patience and resiliance.
After kitty disappeared, any trace of mercy for my neighbor has disappeared. His assault attempt into my flat came directly after I threatened him, which marked the first time in my life I threatened someone.
He is the only human whom I truly, deeply hate, on a personal level. It's been some 7 years since now, and I still would rejoyce would I hear of his demise. I see people on tv forgiving murderers and stuff, because reasons, maybe a murderer was young and without guidance, maybe it was desperate, maybe an accident.
This fucker killed my cat to make a point out of my complaining about his fucking rug. I'm not going to advocate violence or any such, so I will word it thusly: I'd gladly watch. I'd watch all of it.
/vent...
kitty was part norwegian forest cat, part something else. Most her siblings and both her parents were "something else", so the forest cat gene must have skipped around, untill manifesting in her, as stripes, fluff, and a huge mane around the neck
Awesomely patient, we'd do "spider cat" on the ceiling, or wear kitty as a scarf, and sometimes - if she was on the losing end of a territorial fight, I'd get involved. Of course! But played fairly, mind you, I'd go outside, and hiss at rival cats on the lawn. They'd run off the lawn, and kitty would strut super-proud around me.
Last edited:
iridium_ionizer
Mildly Dipped
I know you've heard of Rovers on Mars, but this is ridiculous.
