When I first got my cat Doyle, he got into some trouble in my garage. He was about 5 months old at the time, when he made his way into my garage and started playing with/attacking a fishing pole (not mine of course). Needless to say, the hook got caught up in his paw padding and he tried to run. But the hook was attached to the line, which was attached to the fishing pole. He was not strong enough to move the entire pole.
So he chewed his way through the string, and limped his way into the house. I was sleeping at the time (as it was 7:30 in the morning). I awoke to Doyle jumping on my chest and pushing it with his paw. My eyes opened and he meowed. I noticed a string on my chest also, and thought Doyle just wanted to play.
I quickly noticed there was a problem when I pulled on the string and Doyle’s paw went up with it, like some sort of cat puppet being controlled by his marionette master. Then I saw the hook in his paw (it looked so painful). Needless to say, I rushed him to the vet and all was well with Doyle.
This story popped into my head as I read another story in the news recently. It tells of a rabbit saving his family by alerting them of a house fire by jumping on his master’s chest. Sadly, this rabbit wasn’t so lucky. But his family made it out alive and safe.
Here is to you, Mr. Rabbit. I would cheers to your name but the news story left it out. Perhaps we shall call you Mr. Jumpsack.