My name is Kat, but that probably doesn’t have anything to do with my preference for cats over dogs. There’s something about cats which suits my personality. It’s not that I don’t like dogs. I’ve owned many throughout the years. Each one of them showed his affection by flipping over on his back, wiggling like a landed fish and pissing all over himself. That’s cute. If only men would show the same enthusiasm for my charms. I can’t coax a lukewarm boner out of a man even when he’s been slipped a Viagra cocktail, hardcore porn is playing on the tv, and I’m wearing nothing but a seductive smile.
Cats are like the men in my life. Oh, sure, they’ll relieve themselves all over the damn place, but it’s not out of love for the person who feeds them and gives them shelter. It’s more out of meanness and spite. If you own a cat, it’s best to inspect the burners on your stove before turning any of them on because boiling cat urine is not something you ever want to smell. When it’s early in the morning and you’re running late for work, they plot the most strategic place to ensure shit squishing between your bare toes. If cats ruled the world, wars would come to an immediate halt. Everyone would be too busy cursing and sticking their feet under running water to have the time to blow things up.
If anyone thinks cats don’t carefully plan these things, what’s the explanation for the fur ball phenomenon? A cat will be sitting on tile, linoleum or even outside on the grass and they’ll race to find the nearest carpet, chair or pile of clean laundry to vomit up a partially digested cupful of Meow Mix.
Dogs can be destructive around the house until they’re properly trained, but cats aren’t happy until they’ve jumped to the top of the curtain rod twenty times a day. It’s as if they have an interior stop watch which tells them if they’ve managed to beat their best time for sliding down the curtains with their box cutter claws.
Cats and dogs have four paws, tails and fur in common. Both species can be domesticated which makes their differences baffling. A few years ago cable news carried a heartwarming story which shattered the misconception that cats and dogs are sworn enemies. Or did it?
In Melbourne, Australia a house caught fire. When the firefighters got to the back bedroom they discovered a Jack Russell terrier named Leo standing guard over a box of four newborn kittens. After the five animals were carried outside, Leo stopped breathing. The firefighters performed heart massage on the brave little dog and gave him oxygen. After recovering, he licked the kittens all over their adorable furry faces.
Fast forward ten years. Leo’s muzzle is gray and arthritis limits his mobility. He still loves Fluffy, Snowball, Creampuff and Pooh and gives them feeble licks when they come close to his doggie bed. His reward is usually a clawed nose. In a horrible case of bad karma or poor electrical wiring, the same house catches fire again. The Aussie dog hero of ten years ago doesn’t have enough strength to get up and escape. He howls for the cats to help him.
“Fair go, mates! I saved your lives when you were kittens.”
“Are ya plonked, ya duffer? You’re surrounded by fire,” laughs Pooh.
“Leo, you always were a bit of a drongo. Quit yer earbashing, it’s giving me a headache,” says Snowball.
“Looks like you’re about to kark it. Ya got any rellies who need notifying?” asks Fluffy. He yawns and lifts his leg to lick his balls.
Leo howls louder as the fire scorches his fur.
“It’s getting hot in here. Let’s quit mucking around with this sook and make tracks to the kitchen. I think the humans left some mystery bags on the counter which should be cooked to perfection by now,” says Creampuff as he licks his chops in anticipation of a tasty sausage dinner.
All four cats turn from Leo with their tails in the air waving the dying dog a disdainful goodbye and good riddance. On their way out the door, they pass some firefighters who arrive in time to save poor Leo for the second time in his life. This time he licks their faces.
That’s the difference between cats and dogs.