There’s a scene in the original Ghostbusters movie where Bill Murray’s character is trying to convince the mayor of New York how dire the situation is. He claims the city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions with dogs and cats living together in mass hysteria. In my opinion that mixture is a recipe for disaster in real life too. No one warned me that I would be living with a dog when they stuck me in a cat carrier and dragged me up here to the homestead. I’ve seen dogs before and Bast knows I could smell them at the rescue center. But this is the first time I’ve had to put up with one full time
To begin with there is a huge difference in the motivations between dogs and cats. Face it, dogs are food sluts. They’ll come from miles around when you put out food for them and then they do tricks for treats. I mean I can picture after a busy evening of a dog doing tricks like roll over and sit up, an ape leaving a Milkbone on the bedroom dresser so the dog can just pick it up on his way out the door.
A cat knows he deserves the food he’s given. He’s earned it by guarding the house against mice and other vermin. Could you imagine a cat letting an ape put a treat on his nose and then waiting for permission to eat it. That would just be degrading.
Yesterday Mother-of-Snowball fed table scraps to Jacques which were especially high in fats and protein. Basically it was a t-bone with a little too much meat left on it. Today every time the dog jumped up on the couch next to someone he farted. It was a punishment the apes deserved for feeding him table scraps.
Now I’ll admit that Roswell tends to accept human food that the apes give him but they seldom give him more than the milk they leave from breakfast cereal. And he always asks politely and waits patiently. Me, I don’t even like ape food. I’m very particular about the food I eat. Some may even call me finicky. But because I watch my diet I seldom fart and when I do it doesn’t smell.
My biggest personal issue is no outside freedom. The dog gets to go for a walk in the park twice a day. Sadly, this seems like some kind of reward for not being smart enough to use a litter box. He’s so stupid before he goes outside he lets them hook a rope to his collar which he’s dumb enough to wear in the first place. I can’t say the apes are much smarter. They follow along behind the dog and pick up his steaming warm piles of poop. Talk about your hygiene issues!
A litter box makes so much more sense. I can use it whenever I want and I bury my output. By the time apes have to worry about it, it’s become dry clumps that are easily picked up with a small shovel. But as a reward for being able to ‘think inside the box’, the only outside time I get is in the cat cage.
And then we come to what some of us think is the biggest problem. Dogs just can’t keep their mouth shut. I may have mentioned before how Jacques is always there to tell the apes any time I start to pluck the furniture. He’ll bark if it just looks like the merest glimmer of the idea of plucking has started to think about entering my mind. Doesn’t he know that cats are God’s way of telling you your furniture is too nice?
That noise they call barking is one of the most annoying sounds to ever be invented. Too bad dogs can’t purr. A cat’s meow is so much more soothing than barking. Some say it’s much like a baby’s cry. So much so it elicits a maternal reaction in many women and makes them wonder why they they ever had kids instead of cats.
I’m trying to get along with Jacques but he is hogging the curmudgeon’s lap time. I’ve been showing my patience by getting on the high cushion back of the couch while the dog is there. But it just seems I’m the only one making the effort. Curmudgeon has to make sure he doesn’t play favorites in this game.