Quote:
Originally Posted by EddyB66
I called the animal shelter to adopt a cat, and the guy hung up on me.
I told him I wanted to hold a combine for the cats to see which one was the most athletic. And asked if I could bring a mouse with me, and whichever one catches it is the one I would adopt.
That's sort of how my parents adopted their first cat back in the day. They went to the shelter, and there was a pile of kittens sleeping together/on top of each other for warmth. One was awake and literally climbing on top of the pile, meowing and wanting to get out; my Dad selected him instantly. He peed on my mother in the car on the way home, and within 6 months (he was ~8 weeks when they got him) he was out on their apartment balcony jumping up in the air and catching birds in between his paws (and then obviously killing/eating them). In retrospect, I'm pretty sure he was at least part, if not full, Bengal.
He was quite comfortably 22+ lbs at his heyday, and survived fights with a raccoon, multiple foxes, and killed more than one pheasant. You could tell spring had sprung when piles of dead baby rabbits started showing up on the deck. He also went on walks with my mother when we were babies and hissed at anyone that came near the stroller. My grandparents (both sets) were leery of coming to visit because he had a taste of their blood. The vet and vet techs wore gloves up to their shoulders to examine him. ACE.