Cats and Dogs
Posted By Kathleen David on May 4, 2004
I never thought of myself as a cat person. If I asked my parents for a pet larger than a hamster, it was a dog. We never got a dog for many reasons but I did have a succession of turtles, gerbils, mice, and hamsters that I took care of. Now I have cats. 4 of them. We did have 5 but Treat Williams went off to live with his owner who went to college.
We have an outdoor cat named Pandora. She is an older gray cat with fluffy fur and an attitude about twice her size. Since she was injured last fall, she has spent more time indoors by her choice, We still let her out when she wants to wander, but she comes back in the evening because she wants to. Pandora had three kittens of which we still have one. Stalin is a black and white polydactial tuxedo cat. He thinks he is a alpha cat and the other cats let him think that. Then there are the two striped grays Millie and Vanillie. They were named that because when we first go them, they didn
If dogs like you, it just means you’re not an alien, a vampire, or a cat. If cats like you, it means you’re pretty hip in the animal kingdom.
Jason
I dunno about the “dog” part of your statement, Jason. 🙂 I’ve got two dogs, half border collie and half St. Bernard sisters from the same litter; and, only a month younger, two male cats. The dogs like the cats almost as much as they like “She Who Provides the Treats And Must Be Obeyed More Often Than Not” (meaning, of course, me).
On the other hand, the orange tabby, who is by a week the youngest of the batch, does not think getting licked across the top of his back by a big dog tongue is keen. Nor does he enjoy the “Bet you can’t chase me down and herd me back into the dining room!” game that the Russian Blue so gleefully plays with the dogs.
However, it’s the tabby who’s always right there and helping when the epileptic dog has a seizure; I talk to the dog, gently, until her eyesight starts to come back, and then the tabby slowly walks in front of the dog until she starts to follow him, whereupon he leads her to the cats’ water dish. So I *guess* he likes them, at least enough to feel sorry for them.
But I can’t say that the dogs qualify as “pretty hip” in the cats’ eyes. More like “My idjut stepsisters, the ones with the rocks where their giant brains should be”.
I prefer cats, but I like both cats and dogs. The only problem is that the dogs get jealous of the cats.
When I was a kid I used to fall asleep on the sofa and the cat would curl up with me. The dog upon seeing this would get jealous and jump up on the sofa.
My mother always had a problem with the dog being on the sofa so she would make us ALL get off and lie on the floor.
I’d definitely categorize myself as an animal person in general. My wife and I have four macaws, and we breed himalayan cats. We decided to be a small breeder so that we can let all the cats run free in the house. You can’t really go anywhere without company, except for the couch with the sheep skin on it. The cats seem to think this is just a really big cat and have a fit if you try to put them on it. We did have one kitten who thought it was cool and he’d lick it clean and knead it with his paws.
When the females have their litters, we keep them in a maternity tent in our bedroom. When the kittens start moving around and climbing, they sleep with us, which we think helps give them the wonderfully affectionate personalities they all have. They also seem to be fond of following you into the bathroom, and if you sit for even a second, they pig pile into your underwear.
Anywho, we also had one cat who was very attached to me (and visa versa). She had been injured by a litter mate when she was very small (we bought her from another breeder, mostly out of pity. We’re big softies). She was more or less okay, except for a scratched cornea and sinus issues (they had been punctured). She was very sweet. She slept on my head at night, and if I was in an acceptible position anywhere else, she’d jump on me adn start kneading me before settling in. Late last year, her condition deteriorated rapidly and we don’t know why. I got up one morning to feed the troups and found her dead. It’s been one of the most painful experiences of my life, next to the death of my grandmother (thankfully the only human death I have experienced thus far). We don’t know what happened, and at the time couldn’t afford to get her autopsied. I still hear her sometimes, because we also have her sister.
Alright, I’m babbling, sorry. Take care everyone.
Monkeys.
My family has been host to quite a menagerie over the years. We have had four cats, 7 birds (let’s see, two love birds, two parrotlets, a mitered conure, a cockatiel, and a stupid gray bird like you find at the local department store), a rat, and a hamster of some sort. Oh, and several fish of varying sorts. Yes, I’m sure others have us beat all hollow, but we had three of the cats, six of the birds, and one rodent simultaneously.
We’re currently down to two cats. Rodents dying too quickly, and grow large ugly tumors in the process, so I’m discouraging their addition to our home now. Two of the birds have died, the other five were dispersed shortly after my wife’s death a few years back; they were her interest, and my son and I simply could not adequately care for them. One of the cats died when my son was a newborn (he’s fifteen now); the other, last fall.
I feel a great deal of guilt over sending the birds out with various people. C.J. (one of the lovebirds) and Max (one of the parrotlets) came into our family at almost the same time, were hand fed together, and bonded. They became very upset if their cages were not together, and seemed to mostly enjoy each other’s company. C.J. got broody (I think that’s the right word), and laid several batches of eggs. Max decided he would be a helpful “papa” and would occasionally try to keep one warm (parrotlets are smaller than lovebirds, and he couldn’t quite straddle the eggs); the fact that C.J. seemed entirely OK with that was mildly remarkable. C.J. went back to a breeder, and is hopefully getting to lay eggs that will hatch. Max lives with my sister-in-law, and doesn’t seem to be himself without C.J.
Then there was the cockatiel, who developed a nasty personality after my son decided to get him out of his cage with a towel shortly after he came to our house; he seems to have bonded nicely with my sister-in-law’s roommate, and appears to be much happier than he was here. Ben, my son’s bird, the mitered conure who believed he was at least half puppy; we found a nice family to adopt him. And Brady, the other lovebird, who we got because he had a gimpy leg. He was, in spite of my best intentions, my bird. He seemed to like me a lot, and when loose, would land on me and insist on beak rubs. He’d get rather indignant if he wanted my attention and I was playing with my Game-Boy – unless, of course, I held it out so he could peck at the buttons. A few times, he flew up onto our entertainment center, sat on the rim of a cup full of nickels, and started grabbing the nickels and tossing the on the floor. I would have loved to keep him, but couldn’t bear the thought of clipping his wings; he hopped along all right on foot, but he had no problems getting around when he could fly. Since I saw no way to keep the house remotely clean without clipping his wings, he went off with the breeder too (and may be happy there – he tended to pleasure himself on a big ravel-ended rope perch in his cage).
So, we’re down to four of us for now, and probably only three before too long. One of our cats, Aslan, is ten, and is very much my teenage son’s cat. Oh, he likes me OK, but Bryan is “his boy.”
And Snarf is my cat. He and his brother Fritz were adopted by two college roommates of mine who liked the idea of having a pet better than they liked the idea of caring for one. So, another roommate took it upon himself to care for them, but didn’t really know what to do – which is where I came in. Several months later, when I got married and moved out, my roomie decided not to break up the set, and Snarf and Fritz came to live with my wife and I. She always remembered her first night in our apartment, just her and the cats – she woke up with one on her chest and one on her legs. Fritz was the one who died shortly after my son was born – he had been the runt of the litter, and ran into liver problems.
Snarf is my buddy. Almost every night, when I go to bed, he comes up to get petted, and lies down between my body and my left arm. He’s gone shortly after I fall asleep, but it’s been a comfort, especially since my wife’s death.
Snarf, however, is also eighteen years old, and has been mostly skin and bones for a few years now. I know he won’t be here much longer.
I still feel guilty about getting rid of my wife’s birds. I know they’re better off, I know I couldn’t have cared for them well, but they were so special to her, I feel like I betrayed her. And as much as I want to be, I’m not ready to lose my kitty. He’s like a special link to my past, almost like a last special connection to my wife.
I have no idea why I’m dumping all of this here.
But thanks for letting me.
Definitely a cat person here — we even have a cat named Pandora, too. (The other two are Selene and Orpheus, so you can undoubtedly spot a naming trend.)
A friend and I have had a running argument for over a decade now on the merits of cats vs. dogs. We both agree that dogs give love and friendship much more unconditionally, whereas cats are much more in the vein of “and what exactly have you done for me recently?” She simply thinks that this is a point in favor of dogs, whereas I like to think it means I’ve achieved something with my life if the cats like me. 🙂
And on a related note — I’ve always found it very telling how many, many politicians have dogs, but very few tend to have cats for any length of time. I figure cats are much better at cutting through the BS than dogs.
TWL