Archive for the Crazy Cat Stories Category

Cleaning out the refrigerator, or cleaning of any kind, is one of my least favorite things. Yet it must be done. One day, tossing expired food out of the fridge, I found a full pound package of sliced chicken deli meat that was out of date. I knew that if I left it in the garbage for long, Mr. Verm would strike.

See, the verm cat had small and incredibly dexterous paws. Over the years, we’d tried every different kind of garbage lid to deter him with no success, and had finally resorted to placing the garbage in a closet we could close. Even that could not stop the single minded determination of a verm cat after deli meat.

I was well aware that Mr. Verm knew how to open the closet door. He’d stick his paws under the door and pull until the folding door opened enough that he could squeeze in and forage. However, this generally took a few minutes, and since I was right there in the kitchen, I assumed I was safe.

I threw the meat in the garbage and asked my son, Blake, to empty the can and haul it out of the house. He did this promptly within a few minutes, tragedy averted. I finished up in the kitchen and proceeded on to an evening of watching television. Hours later, I walked down the hall toward my husband’s office and saw something unidentifiable on the floor. I will not get too graphic with the description, but it was obvious that some animal was in gastric distress. I couldn’t figure out what the vomited substance could be and I kept finding more. An enormous amount.

I finally found the shredded wrapper and it all came clear.  Somehow, in the blink of an eye,  Mr. Verm had retrieved the pound of deli meat from the garbage and gone to work. How he achieved this, I still don’t know. From the time I put the meat in the garbage, and my son emptied it, was literally less than a couple of minutes and I was in there the whole time. That cat was a true master of his craft. I bow to his skill.

Apparently, after gorging himself, he’d throw up, eat more, and throw up again. Horrific! I was cleaning the odorous mass far longer than I care to share. And he’d made himself sick. Never fear, he rallied quickly and went on to torment us some more.

It was after this incident that my husband quietly gathered his tools and installed a lock on the garbage closet. Before his death, Mr. Verm  discovered he could roll the container I keep the dry cat food in over in front of the garbage closet, stand on it, and reach the chain on the sliding lock. Yes, I caught him using his paw on it. It was only a matter of time.

There was no stopping Mr. Verm  once he acquired a culinary target.  I envision him in the Big Deli Case in the Sky, happily running from one piece of meat to the next.



My husband likes to grill, but when that’s not possible, I broil the hot dogs in my trusty toaster oven. After everyone had fixed their plates and sat down to eat, I started hearing a weird, squeaky noise. I could not figure out what it was. I walked into the kitchen and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Mr. Verm up on the kitchen counter in front of the toaster oven. He would put his paw on the handle of the little oven, press down, and try to stick his head in to snatch a hot dog. But every time he tried it, the spring loaded door would fly up and smack him in the face.

Not to be deterred from his mission, Mr. Verm continued this practice until he finally put enough of his weight on the door to keep  it open long enough to snatch the hotdog.  The hot dog firmly secured in the steel trap of his jaw, Mr. Verm hopped off the counter and disappeared into parts unknown. I never saw the hot dog again, not even a scrap.

A hardcore, relentless thief, Mr. Verm had struck again. If only I had video…

As many of you know, I lost my kitty, Mr. Verm, about a year ago.  Anyone who knows me has heard tons of Mr. Verm stories because he was a very bad kitty. =) I miss him so much. He was my special boy and thinking about him inspired me to start this category of crazy cat stories on my blog. So, let’s start at the beginning….

My mother’s supposed male neutered cat turned into a very pregnant female. All the kittens in the litter found homes except for Mr. Verm. You see, he was the runt of the litter, born with no tail, and well, just plain ugly. His brothers and sisters were big and white and fluffy. Verm was black, short haired, and sickly.

My daughter, Leigh, fell in love with him and begged me to adopt him. Hubby said,  “I better not come home to find that no tailed, big eared, defective critter in my house. Well, guess what, that’s exactly what happened. Leigh promptly named him Chocolate and we brought him home. It was not long before “Chocolate” revealed his true nature.

I was fixing dinner, chicken and rice. I removed the chicken breasts from the package and dumped the container in the trash can. As I was cooking, I heard a weird noise, turned around, and saw the garbage can shake. It startled me. I wondered if I was imagining things, but then it happened again. I walked over, afraid of what I would find. I lifted the swinging lid and there he was looking up at me, covered in chicken juice and licking his lips. Needless to say, I was not pleased.

I dragged him out, put him in the sink, and scrubbed him down. He struggled at first, but then seemed to accept his fate. It would not be the last time I had to bathe him…I tried to figure out how in the heck a tiny kitten managed to get up on the counter and dive into the garbage can.  I still don’t know, but he had skills.

When my husband came home, I pointed at the small, pitiful looking creature sitting on his behind on the floor like a bear cub and said, “That’s Vermin.” And so he became Mr. Verm.

Unfortunately, he became ill from the raw chicken juice, vomited and had diarrhea all over my house. I thought he might die, so took him to the vet where they prescribed antibiotics. Easiest animal to get medicine down ever. He survived and this is only the first of many Verm adventures.