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…
Posted: 9th, May 2008 | In: Tabloids Comments (29) | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink
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August 28th, 2008 at 8:28 pm
how can you kill a animal. they love us, sleep w. us, and give us comfort. they trust us.
how can u sit there and hurt a lil furry guy like that. it’s sick.
i swear if someone killed my cat…that be like they killed my mother…same respect. i’d fucking kill them
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.
May 10th, 2008 at 7:08 am
Patch…. sounds not unlike Chavcat who I miss desperately despite the scars on the hands and ankles. He too was always at the vets, he needed an anaesthetic and an overnight stay for almost anything! Luckily I had pet insurance. Last trip would have cost just over £400 without it!
Nearly every morning he would jump on the table and sit in the middle of the newspaper as I was reading it and that was it really until he decided to move!!
Sadly he disappeared last weekend. He was run over and a kindly lady picked him off the road and buried him in her garden. (with a fairy on top… she really didn’t know him!) I found out when I did a leaflet drop around the area.
Hey ho….. lifes a bitch when you have pets!!
May 9th, 2008 at 9:37 pm
patch:
If a feral cat comes to you and trusts you for food, then you have won the trust of a nearly-wild creature. Taking food from you was a decision by Otis and he decided you were OK (if only for food). That’s almost as hard as lion-taming.
My sister-in-law is what I call a ‘Cat-Whisperer’; she lives in the middle of nowhere and gets feral cats visiting her 5 cats all the time. Her last feral friend was a huge tom who was an enthusiastic vocalist, so we named him Caruso and he lived happily on her doorstep for years until a pelvic tumour consigned him to a painful end.
Cats. They getcha.
May 9th, 2008 at 8:55 pm
I had a semi feral cat called Otis who was totally insane. He used to terrify me so much that the only way I could get the bugger out the house was to switch on the vacuum cleaner, the only thing that frightened him!
Otis used to growl at the front door and growl when he was eating. He cost me a fortune in vet’s fees as he fought every cat in the neighbourhood and was covered in abcesses. Getting him to the vet was another matter, usually involving much bloodshed (mine) He could fight his way out of a cat carrier and had to be put in a wire cage, tied shut. He was well known in the neighbourhood but for all the wrong reasons - biting,
scratching and unprovoked attacks on man and beast!
I asked the vet where I had gone wrong and he said that, if Otis was a human, he would be termed a psychopath. Mr Dougal Thorn would not have lasted 10 seconds!
RIP Otis.
May 9th, 2008 at 8:31 pm
16
Carmen Says:
May 9th, 2008 at 8:26 pm
……….
Foreplay leaves a lot to be desired too.
…………………
Ew! If you don’t mind, I’ll give that concept A Very Wide Bertha. Ew!
May 9th, 2008 at 8:26 pm
I somehow doubt that Gandolf is equipped for a long interaction.
Foreplay leaves a lot to be desired too.
May 9th, 2008 at 8:03 pm
Carmen. How could you have guessed? Actually, if you check out my recent brief Anorak interactions with Gandolf, he announced that I had a “country-sized @rse” and I have found to my surprise that he is correct; only recently I have obliterated Luxembourg, Lichtenstein and Andorra with the merest hint of a buttock-shift.
I like your idea of the The Wider Agenda, although A Wide Bertha might also be worth considering.
May 9th, 2008 at 7:49 pm
I adore cats. I can’t imagine not having at least one. The one that was run over recently was a rescue cat who had been battered and could bite and snarl along with the best. We called him ChavCat because he was such an old bruiser.
Still have baby-cat who is now 9 months.
The above bloke should understand about really mean cats. Put him in the lion house for the night I say. Bastard! grrrrrrrrrrr.
May 9th, 2008 at 7:43 pm
Will you be coming as ‘the wider agenda’ when we have the MM thread reunion?
May 9th, 2008 at 7:40 pm
I quite understand.!
Old Smuddy is also very good at the sarcastic wolf-whistle and he very often calls out “Avast behind!” as I leave the room. I choose to believe he is merely practising in case he is ever asked in a pub quiz for something a pirate might say.
May 9th, 2008 at 7:20 pm
Gloria,
Having been known as ’shipboard comforts’ for many years, you will understand my interest!
May 9th, 2008 at 7:18 pm
Very good to have you back, btw, Carmen.
May 9th, 2008 at 7:16 pm
Carmen
I have numerous names for him, he just calls me “my darling”!
May 9th, 2008 at 7:08 pm
Gloria,
Would it be indelicate to enquire as to his name for you?
May 9th, 2008 at 7:05 pm
When I first took up with Old Smuddy, he had two identical young tabby farm mogs, not sisters, just identical. Gushing girlishly I asked “What’s this one called?” “Puss.”
“And what’s this one called?” “Puss.” He also had a fish. Guess what that was called.
One Puss disappeared when we first moved but last October, at the age of 20, our darling girl Puss finally was just too old and blind to keep going any more and we miss her terribly.
May 9th, 2008 at 6:24 pm
The best cats manage to convey the impression that, for reasons unknown to us mere mortals, they are prepared to allow us to wait on them hand and foot as a gesture of appreciation for their presence.
Actually, that’s not strictly true; in the days before central heating the best cats would sleep on the end of your bed, thus dispensing with the need for hot water bottles.
Fond memories, once I’d learned the hard way that cats and hot water bottles are not a good combination..
May 9th, 2008 at 3:35 pm
Some are, and look down on the centrally heated furniture/staff with total indifference. Some are rather more sociable and bring little presents - dead mice - live mice - dead birds -
My favourite cat is an Abyssinian called Asmar - he’s playful friendly and really rather sweet, he snuggles up and purrs and is a real joy.
Until Bernie the plumber appears.
In Asmar’s eyes he is a total bastard and must be informed of how much Asmar hates him. This is done from the safety of my arms and this hissing snarling tail lashing dervish gives Bernie hell….then he turns round and snuggles in again.
He is not my cat, but we are a mutual fan club
May 9th, 2008 at 3:28 pm
Deserves to have his eyes scratched out.
Dogs have owners, cats have staff.
May 9th, 2008 at 3:23 pm
Cats are smug bastards - discuss
May 9th, 2008 at 2:09 pm
My very-much-loved childhood cat used to sit on top of the television. If he was a little bored his tail would swish back and forth like a windscreen wiper.
If he was interested then he would peer over at the screen.
We all placed bets on just how long it would take for him to fall off…
May 9th, 2008 at 1:49 pm
Cats ALWAYS look pleased and smug, they’ve usually got the best perch/cushion /radiator in the house.