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Flonk Beauty Contest: 1. Portrait and Description

1. Smee: Buddy

(a description is missing here)

Story 1

A Buddy story is the time when he was about 4 months old and got himself stuck under the shed in the back yard. He was digging after something, or just digging for the fun of it, and when he got under the shed he couldn't turn around and couldn't dig any further. Two of the neighbors had to come and shovel him out. To add insult to injury, after he was rescued from under the shed, I had to bathe him because he was caked with dirt.

Story 2: the recent rat episode.

It was luverly! There I was, thrashing around under and behind furniture with my pointy stick, and the boys were like a team. They'd station themselves on either side of me, watching to see which way the rat would jump, then BAM there they'd go, right on its tail!

At one time, one of them got a bite in because I found rat blood spots behind a box in the back bedroom. That varmint didn't stand a chance.


1. Smee: Ollie

(a description is missing here)

Story 1

The funniest episode was with Ollie. He had something stuck in his throat and it was making him cough really hard. I got worried and took him to the vet. The vet examined his throat and said that whatever had been in there was gone now, but his throat was all sore, and that made him cough more, and that made his throat even more painful which made him cough even more; it was a vicious cycle.

So the vet gave Ollie two injections. One for the pain, and the second was a mild tranquilizer because he was all stressed out and scared. Ollie, not the vet.

Have you ever seen a stoned dog? He tried to sit up on the way home from the vet and kept falling over. When we arrived home, he shambled into the house and flopped on the living room floor. Buddy brought toys for him, dropping them mostly on Ollie's head, trying to entice him to play and Ollie wasn't having any of it. When he wanted to go outside to pee, I had to help him. He couldn't stand on three legs himself so I had to hold one back leg up and steady him so he didn't fall down. It was funny and pitiful at the same time.


2. Dave: Molly

(a description is missing here)

Story 1

ok, there i am in bed having vigorous sex. me on top. and molly picks this moment to jump on my back and just sit there. not doing anything. just sit there. while im gyrating and moving to and fro. and there wasnt anything i could really do about at the time. so we both started laughing and then proceeded to finish the job. molly was quite upset about haveing to leave her perch. the end.


2. Dave: Botticceli

(a description is missing here)

Story 1

Molly and Annie (Somebodys cat) were teaching "the kitten" (botticelli) how to catch bugs. annie and molly would bat the bug back in play if it got too far from botticelli. it was cute and amazing.


2. Dave: Sue-Ann

(a description is missing here)

(a portrait is missing here)


3. Thistle: Her invisible cat(s)

my cat(s) name(s) is/are legion.

it/they is/are black/white/calico/tabby/muticolored

it/they is/are kitens/adults/ancient

it/they is/are responsible for crop circles, global warming, terrorism, gas prices, both bush administrations, and now swine flu

it/they like(s) to take long walks on the beach, intimate conversation, and leaving invisible piles of poop everywhere that mysteriously appear when it is stepped in

i think there is one/many on my lap right now, but i cant be sure

here is a pic of people staring in wonder at my invisible cat(s) -- which are actually right behind them which makes it even funnier

Story 1











Story 2











Story 3












4. DingBat: Sascha

Sascha has the tiniest voice I've ever heard, a squeak of monumentally insignificant proportions, but she can purr for Britain.

She's my vamp cat, with sticky out teeth that she loves to stick in the back of my hand if I'm not stroking her ears enough.

Story 1: the dietary oddities and complaints of a 'fraidy puss

Sascha always leaves the litter box at high velocity, and if I'm anywhere near it, I leave the room at the same speed, following the vapor trail. pooh, tinky!

I've not worked out why she always barfs twice though.. a hairball and some extra. Unwanted kibble, and some extra. Oooh look, chicken, and some extra. Only and always twice, not once, not three.

She likes to sit in the conservatory and complain about the pigeons and the magpies, but doesn't cross the doorstep as she thinks it's always raining outside due to training with a little spray of water when she first came here as a rescue cat.

Story 2

She's a 'fraidy puss, never quite sure if she's going to run or sit for a stroke. Trouble is, this affects how she deals with birds. She's decided the best way to chase them is to shout at them first, and not actually bother about stepping out of the doorway into the garden.

Story 3

Sadly she has only one true talent, an almost tangible vapour trail as she exits her litter box at velocities unknown to man. An almost time shifting blur, where she can be in another room before your nose hairs begin to panic, her path detectable only by the trail of damaged space particles, or maybe kitty litter, in her wake.


6. Free Radio Jackson: Alex

I'm Alex. I'm a cat. I have three pets, one named Aaron, Kim, and Emily. Aaron feeds me, Kim sleeps with me, and Emily gives me baths, but she makes up for it by giving me beads to play with. My pets were nice enough to buy me a nice big house to lounge in.


7. Rebecca Ore: Kit

This is Kit, a Border Terrier who is now 12 years old, a rescue c/o Border Terrier Welfare. His previous people thought he was a lap dog.

Story 1

Kit's first owners told Border Terrier welfare that Kit was an aggressive dog with Crohn's Disease. They wanted me to come to Manhattan and pick him up from Doggie Day Care. I said that if he could understand what was happening, they owed it to him to turn him over to me in person, not have him think he'd been kidnapped and smuggled out of NYC to Philadelphia. Besides, I didn't have a car and hauling a 20 lb. dog in a carrier on public transportation would be tedious. They said that they could bring him in when they came to see the Thomas Eakins exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. They called him Brutus, but Border Terrier Welfare said to rename him.

Like all good Border Terriers, Kit ignored me as they brought in two crates, two Sherpa bags, and a box or two of dog toys and clothes. The woman who was his owner started crying even though he'd growled at their baby. They finally left and I took the dog out to the back yard and called him Kit. We then went for a very long walk and he didn't appear to have missed the owners at all after that (they'd told me he didn't need long walks).

We got another box of toys and clothes in the mail, which I either threw out or gave to a Jack Russell friend of Kit's.

Story 2

Kit decides where we're going for the first half of the morning walk, but sometimes I get tired and want to go toward home rather than not. He would rather not. A couple of days ago, I let him turn left on Olley Lane and we ended up at one of the parks where I decided that we needed to turn left again and walk through the park to the Guinea Road trail crossing. He realized when we got to Guinea Road that we could be headed home now and decided that we needed to take a right and wander around through the next suburban development. About 2 hours after we started, we ended up at home.

This is a dog who supposedly didn't like to take long walks when he was 3 years old, but who pulls stuff like this when he's 12.

Story 3

Kit decided that my yellow chair was the best place to sleep at night; I didn't want him on it because he got it dirty. He decided the rule couldn't possibly be that he couldn't sleep in the yellow chair, but perhaps the rule was that if I told him to get out of it, he had to. Then after a while, he decided that the rule was that he had to get out of it if he heard me coming. A friend came by for a visit and took a nap on my couch while Kit took a nap in the yellow chair. I didn't see this, but heard about it from the friend. After this, I put a large pillow in the chair, trying to block Kit from sleeping in it. Kit schooched the cushion against the back and curled up on the space that was left.


8. Steve: Spot

her mum was a wild stray feral cat so she can be quite vicious at times. one minute she's all cuddly and purring on yer knee, then suddenly and totally without warning out come teh fangs and claws - I hace the scars to prove it. then again that's pretty much like most females though I suppose, heh.


Per: (?)

She turns 16 in June.

(a description is missing here, and so is her name...)


Snuhwolf

(a description is missing here)


Author:      Veronica Karlsson
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