My cat gave me a good laugh this evening. When I got out of the bathtub, she hopped up on the edge, as she usually does without incident. This time, she either misjudged the jump or slipped, and landed IN the tub.
Which still had water in it.
Her legs and belly got wet, she spent over half an hour very intensely grooming herself and acting irritated, and I probably did not help her regal dignity by laughing at her. 
I used to take in strays and I’d have anywhere from 5 to 7 dogs at any given time. People caught onto me having a kind hea… being a sucker and would dump dogs in my yard.
Even though it was city I had a big old farm house with a big yard, so we weren’t too overcrowded.
So this one dog gets dumped in my yard and he knows how to open gates, much to the delight of my other dogs. Not so delightful to my neighbors, who were pretty patient with me considering I lived in the city where the law allows 2 pets and I had 7 dogs, 3 cats, and a mess of rabbits. The parakeets and fish were safe from the city, although not necessarily from the cats and dogs.
I put a lock on the gate so Rocky couldn’t lift the latch anymore.
One day it’s very quiet, too quiet. Dogs are like kids, when it’s quiet you know they are up to something.
So I walk outside and don’t see anybody, until I walk around the corner and see the dogs all gathered around Rocky at the gate. He is trying over and over to lift the latch, with all the others egging him on, their tails wagging, little feet doing the happy dance, saying comeon man get it open, hurry up before we get caught.
My little girl, the only female in the pack, looks over her shoulder and sees me. I swear dogs have telepathy, because she looks back at the pack and everyone of them turns and looks at me and get that awwww shit we’re in trouble now looks on their faces. The tails stop wagging, the ears go down, they drop their heads and slink their way past me. Except for poor Rocky who is still trying to open the gate.
Then he kind of notices something is not right, looks around like where did everybody go, and then he sees me. Head goes down, ears go down, tail between legs, says awww shucks I’m sorry mom. Yeah, sorry you got caught.
I never had to say a word.
I know that irritated look. One of my dogs constantly falls in the pool. I don’t know how he doesn’t it but he runs around and suddenly, splash. He swims out, put his nose up in the air and gives me a look like I just threw him in.
I had a cockatiel for a few years that I took in when his owner, an elderly neighbor, died. I kept him in a very large cage in the living room. One day we were watching tv when Poncho tried to scratch himself while sitting on the perch at the very top of the cage. Not ordinarily a problem, except this time his toenail got hooked in his nostril, throwing him off balance and pitching him off his perch onto the bottom of the cage. Sounded like a ton of bricks coming down and I was really scared he was hurt. When I ran over to see him flopping around (unhurt) with his toenail caught in his nostril it became very funny. When I unhooked him, set him loose and he tried to recover with a “What?” while climbing back up to the top of the cage as if he’d meant to do that it became hilarious.
My two cats when I was younger - one was sitting on the edge of the bathtub watching it fill with bubbles. The other one walked past the door, walked back to look in - then walked up under the cat on the edge and jumped at her, enough to startle her into jumping and falling into the tub. She then walked away like “Heh heh heh” while the first cat did the “angry wet paws” walk out of the bathroom.
So I’m walking my dog – Harriet, the 75-pound American Bulldoggy – around our usual route through my neighborhood. There’s one block I call The Cat Gauntlet™ because about 3 or 4 houses in a row all have cats and all the cats tend to hang out in the street. So Harriet likes to pretend she’s not interested in any of these cats until we get up to the car the cat is chilling out under, and then she’ll try to dive under the car to get to the cat. (Cat lovers: not to worry, she loves cats. She lives with one and thinks they all want to play with her. She is sadly mistaken.)
So one day, we’re approaching The Cat Gauntlet™ and I spot this big, fat yellow tabby lounging in the sun right in front of one of the cars, in full view. Harriet spotted it too, and lowered her head and dropped her tail a bit. Her body language clearly telegraphed “I’m in stalking kitties mode.” Just as we got to a few steps away from lunging-after-the-cat range, she glanced up at me. To see if I was paying attention to her cat stalking. I didn’t break stride or tighten the leash or anything. I just said, “Don’t even think about it” in my stern, bad dog voice. The look of disappointment on her face was so human, it made me laugh out loud. She dropped her ears, lowered her head more, tail went between her legs and she let out this audible sigh as if to say, “Dammit, I was so close.” She didn’t even try; just veered right to cross the street because she knew I’d make her walk on the opposite side from the cats anyway.
One of my former cats, Yowler, loved to stalk me. He’d hide in the bushes alongside a path I’d walk down, all crouched and ready to pounce on the big thing that was lumbering near.
The problem was, he was white. Just about pure white, with some light orange highlights.
So the game was on. I’d see him crouched, a big white mass in the green bushes, and I’d walk like nothing was happening. Then, right before I got to him, I’d stop short.
He’d pounce.
And, when he realized his front paws weren’t going to impact on my legs, he’d walk. On two legs, his front legs splayed up above him and his front paws in perfect Fosse jazz hands, his torso at full extension. He’d walk three or four steps that way, enough to get across the path, before falling back down onto four legs and racing away.
When “I meant to do that” goes wrong, I suppose. Anyway, that happened multiple times.
One time, my sister and I were sitting in the living room, and my sister’s (adult) cat was sitting in a chair. I think he was cleaning himself or something, and then he started playing with and biting his tail. It was adorable and funny. We’d never see him do anything like that before.
My niece was playing ‘chase the laser light’ with Banshee the kitten the other day. Now Banshee will only play this game for a little bit, ‘cuz she’s already figured out that she’s never going to catch it - but she’s willing to give it a shot for a couple of minutes, lol. Unfortunately for her, this time my niece decided to jump the light from the floor to the wall right over the pets’ gigantic water dish. Banshee launched herself at the light, hit the wall - and slid right down into her water dish! She promptly leaped out and staggered away, shaking water off each wet leg as she went…
She’s still a baby and has not quite mastered the whole cat ‘I meant to do that’ look, yet! 
All these stories are great!
My toilet comes off of my laundry, and the laundry door is open so Hudson the Mallymutt can get in out of the weather (especially the hot weather, he tends to lie flat on his back in the middle of the lawn if it’s cold and rainy, but that’s another story).
So anyway, I’m on the loo and Hudson walks in and pushes the toilet door open. He then sits on the floor in front of me, goes up into a beg and puts his paws on my knee. Aww, fair enough. Give him a pet. He also knows “kiss” as a command, so I put my chin out for a “kiss”. He licks my chin then looks up at me with the most seriously hangdog expression ever, and burps lovingly right in my face.
This is so hilarious. Did he also go “MUUUWHAHAHAHA!!”
Coincidentally, my amusing pet is Prowler (aka Little Sally Chicken Leg), the 5th in my long-ish line of fabulous B&W Tuxedo kitties. She is a semi-rescue who, before she moved in, was the punching bag of the neighborhood, fearfully sleeping on a lawn chair in my yard and looking very scabby indeed. Nowadays, she is very accustomed to the high life of living indoors; sleeping on the bed, plenty of food and fresh water, toys, hugs, etc. Ain’t going back to living outside, no how!
Prowler’s game is called “Don’t scare me!!! DON’T!!” My job is simply to be otherwise occupied in the kitchen or bathroom. For a small kitty, she is a stomper, so I know when she’s appeared in the door with that tense, anticipatory “Don’t scare me!” look on her face. Right. You came all the way over here to tell me to not scare you. Got it.
I casually ignore her for a minute or two, then quickly whip around and point my finger at her and whisper “WHAT! Are you doing?!”
Cue skittering claws on the hardwood, tearing into the bedroom and hiding behind the wardrobe. Now, I slowly Frankenstein-walk into the bedroom, with much ominous muttering of “I’m gonna GET YOU! WHERE is that kitty!?!” As I come into view, she frantically dashes behind the bed. Frankenstein gets closer and closer…until she’s cornered behind the bed! One step closer and KAPOW!!! She explodes in a wild, frenzied arc over the bed, claws flailing, ears back, legs running in midair, tail swiveling, lands opposite side and screeches into the kitchen, tail lashing and wild-eyed elation ensues!!!
DON’T SCARE ME!!! Seriously, DON’T!!!
Oh, Prowler, baby darling… you lie so convincingly.
Whereupon (once I recover from screaming with laughter), I return to whatever was “occupying” my attention previously. Until I hear the stomping of little kitty feet in the doorway…muuuwhahahaha!
Rinse, repeat endlessly. She LOVES this game and it cracks me up every time.
My Husky/Greyhound/German Shepherd mix used to love “people food”; she would take it from your hand and wolf it down. Until the day we handed her a poppadum. She clamped down on it to run off with the prize and it shattered in her mouth, all over the floor. The look of bewilderment on her face was priceless. What was even better was the next time she was offered a poppadum she took it ever so gently and walked off very carefully, expecting it to explode again.
“poppadum”?
Mmm, now I want to make poppadom! I’ve been giving the pup bits of baked phyllo dough from the spanakopita, and he isn’t sure what to do with crunchy food that disappears before he can eat it, lol.
Super-thin, super crispy Indian snack cracker thingy. They are very light and delicate, to the point where you could break one while picking it up if you weren’t careful. A dog chomping down on one would create a shattered mess of little crispy bits everywhere.
My dog Flash (Border Collie/Kelpie X) used to sleep in the laundry and each morning would run down the hallway and take a flying leap onto the bed where the big goof-ball would stretch out & sleep for a bit longer.
You would hear him coming:
da-bumpda-bumpda-bumpda-bump* leap rustle.
This was his habbit since he was a pup.
One day I got a new bed that was about 6 inches higher than the old one.
Next morning:
da-bumpda-bumpda-bumpda-bump* leap **“hggnmmmphhh”*thud
He’d done his ‘normal’ jump and hit the bed at a height that would have cleared the side of the old one 
He then walked out into the kitchen and lay in a patch of sun until looking at me reproachfully when I came out later.
Man, don’t you just hate it when you get your toenail hooked in your nostril?
I very nearly collapsed when I read this and pictured it. None of my budgies ever managed anything like that.
My dove never has. In fact, I’m not sure it’s physically possible for her :).
I had a budgie who used to hold the bars of the cage with both feet, then put her head between her legs so that her back was against the bars. She either liked this position, or got stuck a lot, because we’d frequently see her just hanging there. Another budgie liked to stick her head in one of her bells and then squawk as loudly as she could. We always figured she liked the acoustics, sort of like a human singing in the shower.
One of my husband’s cats forgets where he sleeps. She wanders around the house, looking for him. I show her which room he’s in, and she’s happy. She also forgets which side of the door is open, and which side has the hinges. She keeps scratching and hollering at the hinge side on one of the bedroom doors. She’s really not a very smart kitty. Cute, affectionate, and playful, yes, but not smart.