I'm a cat person. Don't get me wrong, I like the idea of dogs. The theory of dogs. But not the practice. A little too slobbery and in your face for me. I prefer the independence of cats. We've gone away for up to 4 days and left Taz in the house completely fine. Royally pissed and looking at us with that "where the fuck have you guys been?" look but fine. I love their hypocrisy. How they can treat you with complete and utter disdain even as you rub their chins? As if you're doing it all wrong but they're putting up with it. All the while purring and rubbing against you. How can they reconcile that in their little cat brains?
My guy Taz loves to see what I'm doing then promptly interrupt me for what is obviously an emergency scratch. He'll wait until I'm completely engrossed in a book or magazine then lie on it. He'll wait until I'm in the middle of a thought on the computer and jump onto the keyboard so it makes that awful beeping sound and my text becomes a page of yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys. And you can't fake it. If I feel like snuggling him and he won't come over, I'll pretend to be reading but apparently he's smarter than me. He looks at me with that look, rolls his kitty cat eyes and walks away, shaking his furry head. It's true. I've seen it. Then it's off to lie down on my bed on my pillow. Alone. Love is always on his terms.
I've never had a dog but my first thought is that they're too loving. Maybe a little bit too loyal if that's possible. You know that story about the dog who sat on his master's grave everyday until he died, like, 14 years later? Sweet story but seriously, no self respecting cat would do that. Taz would shrug his shoulders (I've seen him do it, I'm serious) and find the nearest sunny spot on the floor to mourn on his back, paws in the air. And that's the way I like it.
Then there's the dog poo issue. Even with my own children we had a sensible way of poo disposal. I never once had to touch it with my bare hands. Okay, you don't really touch dog doo but you have to pick it up and a Loblaws bag can't provide much protection from it. And its warmth. You should see my face as I'm typing this. Then where do you put the bag? You can't flush it without emptying the bag and I'd definitely not want to see it again while tipping it out. The garbage you say? Not in my house. And how gross is it to see those telltale Loblaws bags in the bin at the park swarming with flies? Nice.
But I know all of you dog lovers don't mind doing something selfless for a member of your family. A loyal friend who loves you unconditionally (as long as you keep the food bowl filled). Who may sit on your grave for the rest of his life. I'd just rather think of Taz sleeping on the heat register in my livingroom instead.
kxx
My guy Taz loves to see what I'm doing then promptly interrupt me for what is obviously an emergency scratch. He'll wait until I'm completely engrossed in a book or magazine then lie on it. He'll wait until I'm in the middle of a thought on the computer and jump onto the keyboard so it makes that awful beeping sound and my text becomes a page of yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys. And you can't fake it. If I feel like snuggling him and he won't come over, I'll pretend to be reading but apparently he's smarter than me. He looks at me with that look, rolls his kitty cat eyes and walks away, shaking his furry head. It's true. I've seen it. Then it's off to lie down on my bed on my pillow. Alone. Love is always on his terms.
I've never had a dog but my first thought is that they're too loving. Maybe a little bit too loyal if that's possible. You know that story about the dog who sat on his master's grave everyday until he died, like, 14 years later? Sweet story but seriously, no self respecting cat would do that. Taz would shrug his shoulders (I've seen him do it, I'm serious) and find the nearest sunny spot on the floor to mourn on his back, paws in the air. And that's the way I like it.
Then there's the dog poo issue. Even with my own children we had a sensible way of poo disposal. I never once had to touch it with my bare hands. Okay, you don't really touch dog doo but you have to pick it up and a Loblaws bag can't provide much protection from it. And its warmth. You should see my face as I'm typing this. Then where do you put the bag? You can't flush it without emptying the bag and I'd definitely not want to see it again while tipping it out. The garbage you say? Not in my house. And how gross is it to see those telltale Loblaws bags in the bin at the park swarming with flies? Nice.
But I know all of you dog lovers don't mind doing something selfless for a member of your family. A loyal friend who loves you unconditionally (as long as you keep the food bowl filled). Who may sit on your grave for the rest of his life. I'd just rather think of Taz sleeping on the heat register in my livingroom instead.
kxx
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