Why Cats are better than dogs...

[Isabella Thorne]

Oh yes Miss Creamy ... that sounds exactly like Piewacket
.... you are so "Kim Novak" darling! lol
___________________
Cat Scratch Fever
~The Huge Nuge~ lol

 

[NSW'S MOMMY]

Thumper

Thats because you just want pussy...Or is it the four legs???




MOM

 

[Ksss]

Well as an owner of both cats and dogs, I have to say I prefer dogs more (perhaps that is due to the fact that I am allergic to cats, but I live in the country and hate mice more). I recently lost one of my dogs to old age..He was one of my best friends, he listened without judging (at least not in people ways), he was always glad to see me no matter what mood I was in, he was a protector, and a companion. He was very well trained, I would always tell him to make sure he slept on the couch, got in the garbage when i would forget to take it out, and to make sure he drank out of the toilet...He always listened...My cat (who weighed 23 lbs and thought he was a dog) had an almost human like quality to him. He would "talk back" when spoken to, he would sit on the bottom step in the cellar and wait for the mice to come to him, he was very personable. He would scratch or bite you when he wanted to be fed or petted. But all in all, I really am a pet lover, whether it be a dog or cat. Oh and they have to be male, as I have found females to be way too bitchy

 

[WriterDom]

this has been around the internet forever but I'll post it in case someone hasn't read



The Cat Diary


Day 751: My captors continue to torment me with bizarre dangling objects. They eats lavish meals in my presence while I am forced to subsist on dry cereal and cold glop. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of eventual escape -- that, and the satisfaction I get from occasionally ruining some piece of their furniture.

Day 752: Subjected to a horrible procedure during which my claws were blunted with some fiendish instrument while I was imprisoned in a towel. Received some small satisfaction from violent squirming and howling. However, I now have an excuse for sharpening my claws. I will begin with the oriental rug.

Day 753: Went under the their bed today. Found the darkness quite relaxing; especially when I discovered how nervous it made my captors not to know where I was. I waited until the coast was clear to emerge. They will never know.

Day 754: Feeling depressed. Think I'll do nothing all day.

Day 755: I fear I may be going insane. Yesterday, I ate a houseplant. Tomorrow, I may eat another.

Day 760: Wasn't motivated to journal until today. Discovered a self-filling fount of fresh water, so refreshing compared to the stale and rancid water left for me on the floor. Fell in once; will not make the same mistake twice.

Day 761: Though I try desperately to communicate, my captors refuse to listen, and pretend not to understand. Their only responses are a maddening gibberish, phrases which sound like "tibby-doo" and "scooby dooby". If I am loud enough, however, I am generally rewarded with more of the revolting glop. As there is little else to do, I eat it.

DAY 762: Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair... must try this on their bed.

DAY 763: Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765: Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was... Hmmm, must try this with their baby...

Day 766: My captora have been absent for some time; in their place, other, more despicable tormentors come, who try vainly to make me perform tricks with plastic representations of animals. However, they are more susceptible to my clever ploys to obtain more food.

Day 771: They have returned. I am disgusted with myself for my strange desire to be close to them, my anxiety that they will leave again. Although this is a classic case of hostage syndrome, I am not comforted by the fact. I feel a depression coming on.

Day 772: Something is amiss. My captors are languishing around the house all day, watching my every move. I feel sure they suspect me of trying to escape, and hope to foil my plans. I pretend to be indifferent to their presence; things must return to normal soon. Until then, there is little to do except eat and wash myself.

Day 773: Boring, boring, boring.

Day 775: Unbelievable. My imprisonment has heightened to psychological warfare. Last night my captors left, leaving all signs that they would return. As it grew later and later, I began to feel a sense of panic that something had gone amiss, and that no one would know I was here. Who would feed me? I realize I could not survive long on the meagre plant in the window. When they finally did return the following day, I experienced an overwhelming sense of relief. I begin to hate myself for my weakness, but recognize that this self-destructive feeling is most likely the goal of such psychological ploys. I must contemplate an effective retaliation. I will begin with the demeaning sand box.

Day 777: Today the sun came through the window. Ergo, I did nothing.

Day 779: I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

Day 781: I am convinced that I am not alone in my misery. Last evening (extremely late, as usual, and therefore worrisome), the woman came in and I distinctly detected the odor of a fellow sufferer on her clothing. Not only the smell, but some hair that clearly did not belong to me. Much as I try to roll all over everything here - be it clothing or furniture - I know this was from another poor captive. Part of me is horrified that there may be thousands of us; another part feels relieved somehow, to know I do not suffer alone. I haven't decided whether to feel guilty about this or not. Must ponder a few more days.

Day 793: There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer". More importantly, I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

Day 801: I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The Dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait...it is only a matter of time.

 

[Unclebill]

this has been around the internet forever but I'll post it in case someone hasn't read

Thanks. I had not seen this. Fortunately I was not trying to drink as I read it. Whew!

 

[Andra_Jenny]

Who's smarter?

Dog one sticks nose down hole and gets bit by a copperhead. Dog two sticks nose down hole to see why dog one ran off howling. Take both dogs to vet.
The very next spring, dog one sticks right paw down hole and gets bit by a copperhead. Dog two sticks right paw down hole to see why dog one ran off howling. Take both dogs to vet.

On the other hand, they hunt small prey, squirrels, birds (turkey and goose are the preferred brands), 'coons, 'possums (but you have to go out in the middle of the night and kill the damn thing to shut them up),cats, and those little house dogs that city folk are dumb enough to bring to the country when they visit ot retire.

The cats live on the roof and shit in the gutter (probably to keep the dogs from eating it). They only come down to steal dogfood, or see what the dog has just killed and then act like it is a pack thing where if you rub up against the dog, the dog will share (see above).

The dogs are fixed, the cats are not. We average about five of the latter at any given time.

 

[Isabella Thorne]

Where do pets come from?

A newly discovered chapter in the Book of Genesis has provided the answer to "Where do pets come from?"

Adam said, "Lord, when I was in the garden, you walked with me every day. Now I do not see you anymore. I am lonesome here and it is difficult for me to remember how much you love me."

And God said, "No problem! I will create a companion for you that will be with you forever and who will be a reflection of my love for you, so that you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how selfish or childish or unlovable you may be, this new companion will accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourself."

And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam. And it was a good animal. And God was pleased. And the new animal was pleased to be with Adam and he wagged his tail.

And Adam said, "Lord, I have already named all the animals in the Kingdom and I cannot think of a name for this new animal." And God said, "No problem. Because I have created this new animal to be a reflection of my love for you, his name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG."

And Dog lived with Adam and was a companion to him and loved him.

And Adam was comforted.

And God was pleased.

And Dog was content and wagged his tail.

After a while, it came to pass that Adam's guardian angel came to the Lord and said, "Lord, Adam has become filled with pride. He struts and preens like a peacock and he believes he is worthy of adoration. Dog has indeed taught him that he is loved, but perhaps too well."

And God said, "No problem! I will create for him a companion who will be with him forever and who will see him as he is. The companion will remind him of his limitations, so he will know that he is not always worthy of adoration."

And God created CAT to be a companion to Adam.

And Cat would not obey Adam.

And when Adam gazed into Cat's eyes, he was reminded that he was not the supreme being.

And Adam learned humility.

And God was pleased.

And Adam was greatly improved.

And Dog was happy.

And the cat didn't give a shit one way or the other.

 

[Closet Desire]

Brilliant...

...loved it!

Used to have lots of cats and dogs. Loved 'em both, but I have to say just giving a dog attention and caring for it properly isn't always the answer. I raised beagles. Loved them and hated them. Bark, bark, bark, howl, bark. Two inch inch hole in the fence? Wow! The great escape and all of them are out all night, running through the swamps and mud, coming home early in the morning, crashing through the door, cover in mud, rotting fish, and whatever. Jump up on the sofas, leap around on the beds, and crap in the corner. Solid frozen chicken in the sink? No problem, drag it out, consume it bit by bit on the leather recliner and leave it to thaw there. Died of old age. Nice memories...no more dogs!

Cats...wonderful creatures and, fortunately, I'm one of the chosen ones (or at least considered prime real estate to be "marked"). Loved the hear her purring beside me in bed...could almost tolerate her long hair getting on my clothes and in my nose. Not interested in frozen chickens, but did take off each spring to spend a week at the fish packing plant down the road. Came back glossy, happy, and fat. Had a penchant for baby rabbits too. Tried quail but got tired of picking out the feathers. Rescued from Animal Aid and lived for seventeen years. Divorced my wife shortly after.

Never had a cat piss on my leg or try to fuck my loafers. She did like to shred the toilet paper on the roll when she was pissed off at me and she never met a sofa she didn't like...or couldn't destroy. Missed her passing greatly, but really like the new furniture.

No more animals for me. Have three teenagers...can't wait for them to leave. Now I like to leave on holidays and not be responsible for caring for them. Daughter has hamsters...they are pretty self sufficient.

Petted a cat in Mallorca last week. A stray. Decided I looked like prime real estate. Mutually satisfying experience. Left it some chicken on a plate when I left...

Meow.

 

[April]

Oh Isabella, that was wonderful!

Hi, Thumper! *waving*

 

[Feisty1]

dog person

am allergic to kitties, ergo I will never know the warm fuzzy feeling cat-people get when they are pointedly ignored. clearly, it is my loss, lol.

writerdom...that was brilliant. thank you for bringing it to light.

i do have to say i absolutely adore my mutt. i can, however, completely empathize with the desire to kill when "domesticated" pets misbehave, thumper. only once did my doggy get close to getting turned into my next pair of fur gloves...that was the morning she decided not to come back to me (not matter what!!) at the dog park when it was time to go...i was late for work AND had not slept in 36 hours because I had a major exam for which I was studying. it was definitely her way to get back at me for keeping her up late the night before (she can only sleep soundly if she has usurped my pillow and crammed me into an area of 10 square inches on my queen-sized bed). after counting to 934 I was calm enough to walk her home and give her lots of treats and scratches. what can i say? the dog has me wrapped around her paw....