Uncle Ezra had a cat that had been on the farm for all his life. He was a great ‘mouser’, and would kill the rats that tried to get in Uncle Ezra’s feed corn.
This one week, however, the cat was in no mood to chase the rats. He just laid around, licking his belly ever so often. He wouldn’t move, and he didn’t look well. Uncle Ezra got worried and called the vet.
Uncle Ezra described what was happening, and the vet told him it sounded like simple constipation. The vet had rounds to make, but said if Ezra would give the cat a cup-and-a-half of Castor oil, he would stop by and check on the animal on his way home.
That evening, the veterinarian stopped by Ezra’s. “How’s your calf doing?” he asked. “Calf?” asked Uncle Ezra. “It wasn’t a calf that was sick – it was my cat.”
“You didn’t give the cat a cup-and-a-half of Castor oil, did you?” “Why, yes, I did,” said Uncle Ezra, “I thought that was what you wanted me to do.” “Oh, my! Where is the poor little creature?” the vet asked.
Uncle Ezra said, “Well, last time I seen him, he was headed out across the back field with three other cats. One was digging holes, one was covering them up, and I believe the third was scouting for new territory.”
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