Why Cats are Superior to Dogs as Pets

Cats don't bark.

Or howl, setting off the entire neighborhood of dogs a-howling—stupid idiots won't settle down for an hour. And what can we do? Lie in bed and fume. Some neighbors encourage them by yelling, Shut up!

Cats clean themselves.

Cats don't slobber.

Or lick your face with dog-breath tongue.

Or stink when wet or do that twisty-splashy thing that sprays everything within fifteen feet.

Or consume garbage, including plastic bags or like-species feces (I've seen it! My friend Norm had two dogs. Luther followed Cisco into the yard to immediately consume his doggie-doo. He also ate a plastic grocery bag that Norm eventually helped extract from his butt.)

Or chase and bite little kids on the thigh just for happening to pass by. (This happened to me when I was in first grade. The owner told my dad it was the kids' fault for teasing him. ???)

Or growl vicious, baring teeth (Cisco's threat when pet gently by young kids—not even pulling his hair or anything).

Or beg for food.

Or whine.

Or insists upon immediate attention.

Or pee because they're excited to see someone.

Or poke your feet with hard, stiff, ugly claws.

Unneutered dogs in heat hump everything in sight, including male dogs, a person's hair, or a toppled pail. (I've witnessed two of these and got a first-person account of the third.)

Cats are dignified and selective. If they approach you, it indicates affinity, not indiscriminate desperation for attention. This should make you feel honored and special.

House cats are related to lions and tigers. Mano a mano, dogs' ancestral wolf wouldn't stand a chance against either.

When guys describe a girl's appearance in feline terms, it's complimentary, not so if she's called a "dog" or "bow-wow." This proves that cats are considered sexy-beautiful while dogs are considered dog-ugly.

Cats purr—one of the most soothing sounds in the animal kingdom. Cricket chirps fall far behind.

Cats curl up nicely in the lap and can be cuddled like a baby—so cute.

Cats take their time to eat daintily with generally good manners. Dogs gobble.

Cats rarely get lost or run and stay away from home. I can't remember the last time I saw a Lost Cat sign. Our neighborhood has Lost Dog sings posted seemingly every other month.

Cats feel nice when they rub against your legs. They're saying, "I like you." It's their way of petting you. The only appropriate response is to pet them back.

Outdoor cats never need a leash because they know how to stay or get out of trouble.

Contrary to the popular saying, cats don't have nine lives. They have a hundred ninety-nine.

Cats can survive in the wild! (Thus our epidemic problem with strays and ferals—shame on former owners that allowed this to happen!)

Domestic cats have saved countless lives killing pestilence-carrying rodents.

Cats are independent and nocturnal and can be left alone for hours during daylight when they probably prefer to sleep anyway.

Cats are quiet and unobtrusive. They bury their poop, which are small and tidy. They don't eat or drink much either. (I won't contrast this to big, gross, mushy, stinky, just-don't-step-in-it dog poop. Which happened to me in elementary school. Which I washed off in secret in the bathroom sink.)

Cats are fascinating to watch and examine closely because they are so different from us. Things that are fun to notice:

Their amazing climbing speed.

Their stalking skills.

Their balance along fence tops, backs arched down low.

Their ability to always land on four feet.

Their vertical leaps of over twice their body lengths.

Sudden sprints—way faster than the fastest human being.

Their retractable claws—clean, shiny, and graceful—that can be gently protruded by pressing behind the knuckles.

The way they knead their front paws, open and close, left to right in succession when content.

The upright eye slit pupils that dilate large at night and seem to glow in the dark like white glowing disks.

The mystique and aura of cats throughout history as witches' sidekicks, omens of doom, good fortune (Japanese waving kitties), and deities incarnate (ancient Egypt) demonstrate man's respectful, wary, and hopeful affinity toward these gentle, shy, yet sociable creatures.

Is anything more delightful in the animal kingdom than a cat leaping in your lap, curling up and lying on its side—eyes closed, chin up—kneading its paws, and purring with its lips slightly parted, its rows of gleaming teeth peeking in a contented smile? Or feeling its sleek, soft fur smooth on your stroking hand?