Poorly written short stories about animals from home Pt. 2

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Frank and Carlos were bothers and good friends of mine in high school. They lived about a block from me. I spent a great deal of time at their house. When I first met them they had an orange tabby cat that was an indoor/outdoor cat that got in tons of fights. He seemed to also be really bad at it. He was always sporting fresh wounds and when you would pet him, it felt like petting a giant scab. Well that’s actually what you were doing. It was the most haggard looking cat you can imagine. Very little of its’ orange fur left. Mostly large patches of scabs. Just seeing it walk into a room would often launch laughter from everyone in the room. It was just an absurd image.

I don’t recall the cats original name. I can only remember what his name got changed to.

The cat went missing for a few days once and came home with half of his head apparently run over by a car. It’s left eye was now swollen shut and the left side of its’ head was kinda smashed and had now turned into a giant puss bubble.

The cats new name became “Half Head”. We laughed about this for hours. It was our way to deal with the sad situation this poor cat was in.

They took it to the vet and the vet said there was nothing they could do and their best advice was to keep the cat from rubbing its’ head on anything until it hopefully heals.

You already know where this is going. How impossible of a task is it to keep a cat from not rubbing its’ head on anything for possibly weeks or months. Still we all gave it a good effort.

One day, Frank, Carlos and I walked into the kitchen. Half Head was rubbing his head on the corner of the refrigerator and Frank leaped to stop him. As Frank was just inches away from the cat, the cats’ head exploded and splattered blood and puss all over the fridge and Frank. The room filled with a smell unlike anything I have ever smelled and had the effects of mace. We all gagged trying to keep from vomiting as Frank frantically ran to the bathroom to shower. Perhaps our incessant need to laugh was the only thing that kept us from launching into a vomit party. Half Head died instantly.

We cleaned the kitchen while covering our mouths with towels, then we gave Half Head a proper burial in the backyard.

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