The Cat That Got Cremated: Man Kills Chopper With Bare Hands
HEARD the one about the man who killed a cat because it was teasing him?
It’s true. Says the Express: “In cuffs, the man who killed a cat ‘for taunting him’.” The Mail agrees: “Cat from next door smirked at me… so I killed it.”
There’s a picture of Mr Dougal Thorn in handcuffs, being led to a police car, and on to a police station.
Mr Thorn maintains that having knocked over a vase in his living room, the cat looked “pleased”. The cat, one Chopper, lodged with Sarah Brooker and her partner Tom Walker.
Says Mr Thorn: “The cart became a menace. He looked pleased when he knocked over a vase. Things were getting broken and the vase was knocked over with water and flowers everywhere.”
It looked like a scene from a Dutch damn disaster.
He continues: “I knocked him unconscious with my hand then threw him in the river.”
Some may consider this reasonable behaviour, others may view it differently
Ms Brooker “cannot comprehend how someone can kill an animal with their bare hands”, so joining Anorak in advocating wayward cats being undone with stun guns, gas and gloves.
Mr Thorn has been charged with criminal damage.
But nothing will bring Chopper back, and neither the cat nor its owners will be prosecuted for breaking an entering.
Chopper is no more, and we like to think of in happier times, or cremated and poured sensitively into a vase…
May 10th, 2008 at 1:52 pm
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
Oscar Wilde.
Would you Adam and Eve it?
May 10th, 2008 at 11:41 am
Just as well the Saint and the Sinner never met; the tom cat equivalent of High Noon.
I’ve often thought that if Schrödinger had tried placing Sinner in the box, then death would have been free of all quantum uncertainty.
Schrödinger’s death, that is…
May 10th, 2008 at 11:24 am
When Puss was still around, I used to call her Mrs Bibsworth. She was identical in all respects (except one) to the cat I used to call Mrs Wormbottom.
May 10th, 2008 at 11:20 am
How odd. Stinky’s full name was actually St. Inky of Quinkland. So I had a saint, you had a Sinner.
May 10th, 2008 at 11:12 am
Ours was called Sinner.
Self explanatory, really… But it made it a bit difficult when we were calling him.
He was undisputed master of all he surveyed, and no other cat was allowed in his territory.
Unless they were female, of course.
May 10th, 2008 at 10:59 am
Black cats are like that. I had one called Stinky. He was big, he was black, he was beautiful. But he was a murderous beastie. He could rip open a forearm with his back claws without a second thought.
May 10th, 2008 at 10:52 am
The very first cat I recall was completely black, thus leaving no opportunity for artistic endeavour. That and the fact that he would have taken your hand off at the wrist if you’d tried it…
May 10th, 2008 at 10:43 am
Back in the mists of time, we had a white cat who usually had some felt-tipped glasses drawn on him by my eldest brother.