Zozo is an affectionate cat. The ginger haired tabby likes to cuddle with me on the couch. When she was young she would snuggle under the blanket and lay down outside my right thigh with her head near my knee to sleep, perchance to dream. As you know, felines have outstanding olfactory skills; their noses are extremely sensitive. Unfortunately, this did not work in Zozo’s favor one day. I had consumed some food that caused an excess of methane in my gastrointestinal tract.
She was blissfully sleeping under the blanket when the first discharge occurred. I felt her wake up and take several small inhalations. Zozo relaxed again and a few minutes later another vapor let loose. She jerked to alertness, took a breath, wiggled out of the blanket, jumped onto the floor, gave me a look of horror, and fled from the room. The poor thing had been choked by the fumes. I admit that the fart was quite strong. For several years she did not sleep under the blanket next to me. Her memory of that terrible smell remains vivid. Tillie, muted calico troublemaker, runs from the room and returns when the stink subsides. Momo, now deceased calico kitty, never reacted to the stench; perhaps her nose wasn’t as attuned as she aged.
When my childhood dog, Toto, would pass gas she would blame the closest human. She would sniff the air and give the person a disdainful accusatory look. After consuming a bird her farts would be awful. I’m sure the air color turned a bit green from what exited her rear end. The adage of “SBD” silent but deadly could be applied to that cute fuzzy creature’s airy creations.
Pass the Beano!
© 2012 Ima B. Musing
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