Childhood stories:
My mum bought a chicken from the hot counter. Took it home mad left it on the side as usual. Came back later to find the bag on the floor, completely empty and licked clean - not a scrap of meat or bone anywhere - one very guilty looking dog and 3 very satisfied looking cats sitting around the empty bag.
IndiaCat always used to bring me presents. Half alive ones were her speciality. I used to have to chase her around the room to get hold of them and then would spend days trying to nurse them back to health. Buried more than I like to remember.
Family woken up very early one morning by a lot of noise. Mum and I go to investigate and see that SamCat and IndiaCat have dragged a live fucking crow in through the cat flap. Poor thing was so scared and confused. Took over an hour for us to get brave enough to go near it hold of it, check it over and let it go. Dick cats just sat on the stairs and watched in silence.
Mum got up another morning to see what the noise was, and tripped over something as she walked into the kitchen. Turned the light on to find a massive rat lovingly left lying in the middle of the doorway.
More recent stories:
Bring lovely calm rescue JessDog home for the first time. Introduce her to lovely IndiaCat. All is good, until IndiaCat jumps down. JessDog gets excited and chases her upstairs. Rush upstairs to find dog on the bed and cat on top of the curtain pole. Kick (not literally) dog out of the room, eventually coax poor shaking cat down and discover a chunk of flesh hanging off her back leg. Expensive vet trip to clean her up and sew it back on. She never forgave dog and would hiss and swipe at her if she dared to get too close to her back end.
Moved into a new flat. Unloaded all the boxes, took JessDog up to show her around, and show her where the back door is. Summer time so just left the door open. Very good JessDog went outside for a sniff and a wee, came back up the stairs, walked straight to the middle of the living room floor and had an enormous shit on the carpet, turned around to admire it then waltzed off to bed and went to sleep.
I was making two 2-tiered cakes for a joint birthday party. Left the 4 tiers on the side to cool and went to watch TV for a bit do some more chores. Came back into the kitchen less than half an hour later to find WoodyDog sized chocolate cake paw prints on the counter, lots of crumbs, and WoodyDog and JessDog licking the floor, wagging their tails.
Used to have a lovely memory foam mattress. WoodyDog loved it so much he would dig holes in it for him to sleep in 
Came home from work one day and can't find JessDog. Look in every room, check outside, call her name a million times, shake treat tub etc etc. Rang now ex boyfriend to see if he had checked she was definitely in when he left - she was. Panicked even more, went out hunting for her, circling back to the house all the time to check she wasn't waiting outside, rang all the local vets etc etc. At least 3 hours of hunting later, I had given up (black dogs are hard to spot at night), so went home and just left the front and back doors open in case she came home. I was devastated and cried so much. Sat on the bed to get changed and the daft little shit stood up under the covers, came out, shook, stretched and went outside for a wee.
She had never, to my knowledge, gone under the covers before, but had somehow managed to get underneath so carefully and lay so flat that the bed was still perfectly made and there wasn't a lump anywhere. The top of the quilt was still tucked underneath the pillows ffs. It became the first place we would look if we didn't know where she was, and she was frequently sat on while practicing her ninja stealth skills.
WoodyDog always used to pee on JessieDog (different to JessDog). She would often come in more yellow than white. Both were to blame. WoodyDog wouldn't wait for her to finish having a wee or poo before scenting the area, and JessieDog would walk over to sniff where WoodyDog was to see why he was peeing there and would stick her face right in the pee stream 
JessieDog likes to chew pants. If DH and I are having sexy time, we have to make sure pants are put in the wash or temporarily hidden in a drawer to stop her getting them 
Pants also cannot be dried on the airer or radiators, or they will be stolen and converted into crotchless ones. She's even torn through the plastic packaging of a brand new set of pants. I don't know how she knows what they are but she doesn't do it to anything else