When Dr. M and I did laundry like a week ago we found a baby sock in the load that we brought back from the dryer. Rather than bring it back into the laundry room (which is about ten feet from our door), we left it on the floor for a week, always intending to bring it back, but never doing so, even when we did laundry again. Instead we devised various inappropriate things to do with it before ultimately returning it. Then, Dr. M had the ingenious idea to try to put it on our cats.
Pepe was the natural choice for this fiasco, since he already has no dignity whatsoever. But he's also resistant to any attempts to put clothes on him, as we realized when we tried to make him wear the Irish boxer shorts that came with my Build-a-Bear(TM) St. Patrick's Day cat. So the sock didn't work with Pepe.
But we got Ruby to wear it.
Dr. M wants me to tell you that Ruby was purring when each of these pictures was taken. I'd like to tell you that sometimes cats purr in times of great fear or distress.
After we got the sock off Ruby we tried it on Pepe again, and again failed. Then Dr. M decided to see if she could fit her whole fist in the sock, and she can! I'm not sure if we can even return it now, without inflicting even more abuse to make it clear to its owner that it's been through things that have rendered it, shall we say, unclean.
Let it never be said that living on the Peninsula is boring.