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Here kitty, kitty, kitty

September 25, 2006

For our dissecting pleasure we were supplied with a dead cat sealed in a plastic bag full of dead fleas and juicy formaldehyde goodness. Unfortunately, ours was not shaved for ease of access to the flesh and we had dull scalpels and scissors to cut away the muscle and skin exposing the bright blue and red latex injected into the cats veins (blue) and arteries (red).

This gave me a fabulous idea for our diabetic pain in the ass cat….we could donate him to medical science. I think I have to wait for him to die first. Sadly, many of the cats are bone thin–literally and some are bone thin and pregnant. All were set to be euthanized by the local Pound and so instead were donated to a lab to be trussed up and assembled for our learning pleasure.

I did not cut the cat or touch it. Luckily, my good buddy and fellow tatooed friend Jason did an excellent and respectful job of cutting the cat. We named him Fred. As in Dead Freddies near where I live. He had a chipped tooth.

So, for gosh sakes….spay and neuter your animals. Keep them indoors and adopt animals from the ASPCA or local Pound. If you see a stray around–set out some water and/or food. Put a cardboard box on your porch during storms so they may find a way to get in out of the cold. Don’t buy or take an animal you are not committed to keeping until it dies.

Looking at Fred laying there on our extra large cookie sheet dead fleas all over him –I felt bad for wanting Floydd dead and hating him because he is a pain in the ass…but just for a second.


4 Comments leave one →
  1. September 26, 2006 3:48 pm

    I challenge you to make up a song about Fred.

    I think it should be a happy jig, but that is up to you, should you accept the challenge.

  2. david bamford permalink
    September 27, 2006 12:28 am

    have I missed the history on this grusome story!

    This would be ideal for my exs birthday.

  3. Joseph Young permalink
    September 27, 2006 1:54 pm

    Speaking of dead cats and all, I had a question I wanted to ask, Cole, but I don’t have your email address.



  1. Death becomes him « Driver Eight

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