Cats vs. Dogs
February 5, 2019 at 5:27 pm #25320
I tell people that having a cat is like having a roommate. Having a dog is like owning a slave (a “house n*gg*r”).
Dogs have owners. Cats have a staff.
Your thoughts.February 5, 2019 at 7:34 pm #25323
Said my mom decades ago, “Cats are sovereign monarchies with tails and self-emptying mousetraps.”February 5, 2019 at 7:39 pm #25324
Humans are the boss in this house, my cats told me I could say that.February 5, 2019 at 7:56 pm #25325
Reg the Fronkey FarmerModerator
I think I posted this before, from Hitchens in “The Portable Atheist”, chapter 1:
“Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.”
My owner is named “You’re one of them!!”. Sometimes, standing in the back garden at night, when my neighbors are about….. “Come in!! You’re one of them!!”. It will if it is bothered to.February 8, 2019 at 12:28 pm #25359
LMAO!!! You’re one of them!!!
My daughter named our cat Moshca. Serbian for Cat. I use to ask my wife “Why even name her if you’re actually calling her CAT?”February 9, 2019 at 12:03 am #25362
Calling a dog a “house n*gg*r” most often results in a wet, slimy face licking.February 9, 2019 at 6:26 pm #25366
Nothing says friendship like sharing a litterbox. I kick cats when women aren’t looking. All kidding aside, I had a cat when I was a kid. This cat really was a friend. He would meow like crazy, all different ways and after a while I started to figure out what he was saying. He would follow me around. He even figured out how to turn light switches on and off. I missed him for a long time when he finally died. He was a joy.February 9, 2019 at 10:08 pm #25367
My first pet was a cat. If it wanted to snuggle or be pet, she’d jump on my lap and usually purr. If I went to pet her, she’d swing her claws at me with a “get out of my fucking face jerk” attitude. The first time she went missing was for three days. Finally found her coming out of a squirrel den. If you called her she would never come. If you ran the electric can-opener she’d come running. If she wasn’t bitchy that day I’d give her a can of whatever it was called which she loved. She started going missing for days, even during -20º evenings. She crawled into a car underbelly to enjoy the warmth that was left there. Guy started the car and spit the cat out. Beyond all credulity she survived. Then we got a dog. And she was extremely mean and bitchy to the dog. Never jelaous. Probably very happy as we would leave her alone when she wanted to be left alone, still got fed, and found someone to pet her when she wanted petting. We fell in love with our doggy and he became my best friend for years. He had a slight instinct for when I was upset and would usually come to me. He slept curled up in our beds. Howled when I played the piano. Completely vacuumed the carpet of the tiniest crumb. Stood drooling at us whenever we were eating meat. My cat eventually got hit by a car which was upsetting and made me sad for a day or two. When we brought in my dog to be compassionately put down, it was the most traumatic moment in my entire life. Still is. I live in the very dense, compact centre of Madrid. Having a cat is no problem, dogs are next to impossible unless it is an annoying Chihuahua. No thanks. I get jealous when I see rich people (with big apartments) take their dogs for walks, super jealous.February 10, 2019 at 1:31 pm #25378
@davis: Man I feel ya.
Our cat was the same way. Crawl up on your lap purring and the minute you touched her she’d scratch the shit out of you. She ended up getting cancer and we put her down.
Our dog on the other hand was a joy! He mimicked the sound of “I want one”. If I held up a treat and asked him, “Snowball, do you want one?”, he would actually do a Scooby Doo and make that sound. My mother came to visit and couldn’t stop laughing. She recorded it on her phone and told everyone she knows in Mayaguez, PR that her son’s dog could talk. He was the last one to see me off everyday and the first one to greet me when I walked in at night. He could hear my motorcycle blocks away and wait at the top of the stairs for me to walk in. He was my best friend. He was a West Highland White Terrier and he lived for 17 years! Miss him every day.
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