Cats are Cool; Dogs are Chumps

Cats are Cool; Dogs are Chumps

Mr. Chili Pepper enters through his cat door and struts by. He's been gone for two days now and I was worried about him. I stretch out my hand suggesting I want to pet him. With almost outright contempt, he eyes me. "Not right now, okay?"
Even the most hardened of dogs would present his head to be fondled in this situation.

Then Chili looks at me and says "meow" as he turns toward the kitchen and his dining area. Little guy's hungry, I think, and scamper after him. After I cut up a fine cut of raw chicken I picked up at the butcher for him, I lay it out on a clean platter just like he likes it. He takes his time, sniffs around, making sure it meets his quality standards and then he nibbles on one piece. Slowly he gives me that special look that suggests that I've done a good job and, well, why don't I move on so he can enjoy his meal in peace.

Later, he walks by and I notice that there's a little blood dripping from his left ear. I jump up, fetch some iodine and a q-tip and clean him up. He actually purrs and my heart races a bit.

Last night I looked out the window and caught a glimpse of him assaulting that mean brown cat up the street. It's all about territory and lovely Lucinda, a black and white beauty from next door, who's been driving him mad lately.

When I'm finished, he jumps in his sheepskin lined basket for a long sleep.
No doubt, the little guy's tired. Probably been up all night with Lucinda again.
I understand completely.

That's all the interaction we'll have for the next few days, I suppose, but I'm satisfied and I suspect he is, too. Chili and I have a mature relationship with mutual respect and unlimited freedom for both of us.

Such a relationship with a dog is impossible. I've owned a number of canines in my lifetime and I enjoyed almost all of them. Yes, there were times when I actually thought they were intelligent creatures, that is, until I got into cats.

I cannot say that I have really ever "owned" a cat; they are too intelligent for that. Many have lived with me, from time to time, however. The truth is cats are totally free. You don't own them!

They come and go as they please. They may go outside for ten minutes or they might stay out all night. It's up to them; it's called self-determination, and man have they got it. In fact, they could walk out and never return. If they take a fancy to some other home where perhaps the beds are warmer, the food is tastier, or a hot little chica lives next door, they may decide to move. It's like they are divorcing you, and like all ex-partners, they won't come back for visits.

In short: they don't love you, they cohabit with you.

A dog willingly allows you to incarcerate it. Your home is its prison and it is serving a life sentence. You are a mix between a warden and a prison guard. It typically gets to walk outside once or a maximum of twice a day. Most probably even then you'll put a leash around its neck and force it to walk at your slow, boring pace. Despite this indignity, it still comes when you call it, sits, rolls over, begs for food, licks your hands, and does other stupid "tricks" you taught it. What man calls "intelligence" is actually a whimpering display of obedient subservience.

A cat never comes when you call it. It looks at you with that sly look that says, "forget it, man," or worse yet, it simply ignores you like you don't exist.

You can't bribe a cat with food either. It eats when and what it wants, and does so with elegant grace. It never slops its food down like there's nothing more coming its way. Why? Because a cat knows how to fend for itself. It is the perfect hunter combining blazing speed, cunning, and infinite patience. It is a thing of beauty to watch it lie in front of a mouse hole for hours and wait for the exiting mouse to stray too far away from the hole to return. That's when the cat strikes.

Despite this effort to catch dinner, a cat loves to share its prey. It revels in showboating and strutting over to its parents, siblings, and even friends with a live mouse, bird, or other small animal in its mouth. Then it proudly announces its victory with an odd sounding "meow" and shares it with them. Sometimes it even makes a gift of its catch and moves on for more hunting excitement.

A dog, on the other hand, is lucky if some human gives it a dry bone to chew on. The last thing it would do is share it. In fact, a dog is so dumb it often buries this treasure to hide it for a rainy day and then completely forgets about it.
A cat is cool, sleek, and elegant. A dog is excited, loud, and clumsy. Don't believe me? Watch a dog that's allowed to go outside without a leash. It bounces out the door, barking and making a racket with no fear of a possible enemy harming it.
A cat knows the world it lives in is a dangerous place. It first sticks its head out the door just far enough to look left and right, then it cautiously places one paw out and looks left and right again. The entire process of leaving its home is a slow, calculated exit maneuver.
Furthermore, it would never run up to a complete stranger and jump on it, or show any emotion toward it except skepticism.

A dog has absolutely no dignity. His master may go out and leave it home for just a few hours and the dog will run around the house crying and jumping for joy when he or she returns. It's degrading to watch a grown dog behaving like a giggly child.
With a cat, you can be gone all day, or all weekend for that matter. When you come back, it might not even greet you. It probably will give you a short glance that says, "Oh, so you're back. I didn't miss you one bit. Actually, it was nice and quiet without you here for a change."

Then, of course, dogs are sloppy and seem to enjoy being that way. A dog will defecate right on your front lawn, even though it could just cross the street and do it in an empty lot or, yeah, in your neighbor's garden. Additionally, a dog needs to be soaped down every now and then since its not capable of keeping itself clean.
A cat most certainly doesn't need you to be well groomed and proud. Also, a cat knows where it wants to defecate and it's definitely not near its revere. It knows the smell is nauseating and attracts pesky flies, so it buries it. For all we know, it may even be fertilizing the soil so that it's hunting grounds will be lush to attract prey.

In conclusion, you'd be doing your dog a favor if you had it locked up in a dog pound. At least there it would have other inmates to interact with in its perpetual confinement.

On the other hand, if a stray cat comes to your house one chilly autumn evening and your kids fall for its charm, go ahead and "keep" it. Just remember one thing, its a guest. It will not do anything for you, except perhaps some cold winter evenings, when it might jump on your lap and allow you to pet it. Enjoy those moments, for when springtime comes, and love is all around, it just might hit the road again free as air.