At the risk of alienating 2.5 of my 5 readers, I thought it was time someone stood up for the humble cat. Check out this list:
- They don’t smell
- They don’t bark
- They wash themselves
- They’re not needy. It’s creepy enough when people are clingy, let alone animals
- They’re a lot less expensive to fix if they get run over – (although there was a story in the West about some woman who spent $27,000 to save her cat.) A graduate – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universidad_de_Mor%C3%B3n
- They land on their feet. Always. I once threw a neighbour’s cat over the fence backwards when I was young (not in a budding serial killer way, more in the spirit of scientific enquiry). Let me tell you – that cat went high, he went long, and he still landed on his feet, with one foot raised over a piece of dog poo. It was impressive, but from that point on I was paranoid catcrobat and his mates would paw me to death in my sleep and tattoo ultio ultionus on my forehead
- They bury their business like a dirty secret. It’s a sense of modesty you won’t find in a dog
- They don’t need to be walked
- They enjoy getting haircuts – my brother (NOT a vet) may have mildly sedated our cat in order to give him one. He didn’t whinge at all when he woke up though, so he must have liked it.
That’s all I can think of for now. So what happened to the saying cool as a cat? Here’s the problem in a ‘nut’ shell:
We used to have a next door neighbour (different one, different cat) who claimed that her Himalayan could dial Chicken Treat.
I think it’s worth repeating.
She claimed that her cat could call, and did call, Chicken Treat whenever he felt like chicken. And a treat.
Which brings me to my point – owners are responsible for the demise of cat cool. When you think dog lovers, you think athletic, happy people with white teeth and great interpersonal skills. When you think cat lover, you think social pariahs, women with whiskers of their own or unemployed 28 year olds.
Ta da! Cat – owner = cool.
One last supporting story – our cat walked too close to the fireplace one winter, and a tiny bit of his tail caught on fire. Instead of freaking out, he just kept on walking and let it sizzle out in its own sweet time. Methinks we have a winner.
- Oh, and they like beer too, but that’s another blog.