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Schrodinger famously postulated a thought experiment where a cat put in a box with a flask of poison and a radioactive material that potentially could discharge a particle detectable by a Geiger counter that would be set up to break the flask, killing the cat.  As the release of the particle was random and undetectable outside the box it would be impossible to know if the cat was alive or dead unless you opened the box, with the suggestion that until that point in time the cat was both alive and dead. However...


Surrey scientist Bill Redmonds and his drinking buddy, history lecturer Alan Fountain, who holds regular history debriefs in the local Wetherspoons have debunked the story.


'First of all,' said Bill today, 'have you ever tried to get a cat into a f@cking box?  Just a box, never mind one rammed with fragile flasks of poison and a 1930s Geiger counter, which would be about the size of 32 inch TV back then.  The flask would be shattered in the first two seconds killing the cat and Schrodinger.  In fact, scratch that, the cat would be out of the room before anyone realised the flask was broken,' he added.  'Even if you got the cat in the box, with or without the flask, Geiger counter etc, etc, you would be in no doubt if the cat was alive or not.  The bloody box would be bouncing around the room, unless the cat was dead.  Thought experiment, my arse,' he said.


'But,' said Alan, holding up a handful of letters, 'his neighbours had cats, either side, and he was forever sending letters complaining that their cats were sh!tting on his lawn.  Then he proposes his "thought experiment" and the letters stopped.  I bet he didn't have to worry about cat sh!t either from that point on and I for one would think twice about getting a replacement cat.


Scientists have refined the theory in the light of this revelation.  Imagine you have a lawn and your neighbour has a bloody feral cat.  If there is sh!t on the lawn is the cat alive or dead?  If I've got anything to do with it...


image from pixabay




TV Supervet, Sean Flaherty, has ruffled the fur of the nation's cat lovers by insisting their beloved moggies are 'sly, sneaky, self-centred little feckers that love to shit in your neighbour's flowerbeds just for the craic.'


'Cats are genetically programmed with an inbuilt sense of malice,' explains Flaherty, 'only responding to humans when their owners stand banging a can of cat food with a spoon, shouting the cat’s name in some stupid high-pitched voice they imagine is endearing.


'But once they have eaten the food, with no more to gain by even so much as acknowledging anyone’s existence, they pull the drawbridge up. Arrogant bastards. That's what they are.


'They fully understand the minefield of inter-neighbour politics and really get off on upsetting this dynamic by never shitting on their own doorsteps, but by doing their business on next door's instead.'


We spoke to Tiddles, one malicious moggy who purred, 'I love the buzz of getting my owner into trouble, by pissing in anyone else's garden but his, for example.


'Last week I caused quite a scene when he came out shouting the odds at the new next-door neighbour who had tried to shoot me with a BB gun after I shat all over then dug up his prize geraniums.


'How was I to know the neighbour is a professional wrestler and would end up knocking seven bells out of my poor ickle-wickle owner?'


Picture credit: Wix AI

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