Winston Churchill said, “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” I believe he means, dogs like us, cats don’t and pigs could care less. This concept pretty much sums up people also, whether they are dog lovers, cat lovers or bacon lovers. There are people I look up to, those I look down on and those I like to roll around with in the mud.
Since cats look down on you, you are crazy if you own a cat. In reality you cannot own a cat, cats do not allow you to own them. I posit that the cat owns the house and merely allows you to live in the house that you paid the mortgage on. Check your deed, if you don’t believe me. You are reduced to being a cat butler, open the door, cat goes out, open the door again, cat comes in. I live in the house owned by two cats, not a legal tenet learned in law school, a deed should have a human listed somewhere under ownership. My cats’ official names at the veterinarian clinic are Penelope and Charlotte, but at home they go by their nicknames, Dumb Ass and Little Bitch. They possess every annoying trait any pet ever developed and I continually point out that fact to them. I once yelled at a cat: “Damn it, if you want to go outside you should learn how to open the door!”
Penelope has issues, she became traumatized during a tornado six years ago and each day since then she reminds me of the fact that I left her at home alone during 80+ miles per hour winds. “Remember 2011, you owe me.” I acquired Charlotte when a student was giving away kittens because her cat got out one night and got ‘knocked up.” The cat, born of a knocked up mother, has not learned how to open the can of cat food that she will not eat … “hum, just wanted to smell it.”
Whit Gibbons wrote that cats were the most vicious of animals because they hunt for pleasure, not for hunger. It’s common to see three-legged, tailless lizards strutting around the yard; these wounded veterans are such good sports. I had to remove my bird feeder because I was simply baiting a trap for the cats to have something to catch in flight. To live with a creature such as a cat cannot possible make sense considering that you are prey, they just have not found the appropriate moment for attack. “Just bidding my time until you are old and squatty and are no longer able to bend down and pick me up.”
During the kitten phase, there must have been some pleasure having a cat around, as a cute ball of fur playfully chasing a ball on a sting – but that memory has faded. Now, I long for a morning that I greet someone and say: “Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?” But instead the first words out of my mouth are: “Okay bitch, eat it or starve!” We are just three females living under one roof, experiencing all the hormone problems that come with the territory. The pleasures are few, more work than enjoyment. But I can call Charlotte in for a nap; she’s a good napping buddy. Penelope just stares at me when I call her, thinking, “if there’s no food involve; don’t bother me.” Egyptians may have elevated cats to gods but these self-righteous “goddettes” have staked their claim on one non-worshipping employee. I should get a little yappy dog.
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