Before the cat’s arrival, meals were very festive times. I would sit and stare attentively at your lips, trembling slightly and drooling. You would play the game of pretending to be cross and demand that I leave the area, but whenever you cooked dinner your children would slip me food under the table.
Now, though, the cat is allowed to jump on the table – actually physically walk on the table! You don’t yell at the cat, you just pick her up and put her back on the floor, and I know you don’t see it but she always gives me a haughty look as she walks past me.
And speaking of meals, I have always been satisfied to eat the gritty pellets of meat by-products you bring home in the giant bags, right? Have I ever once, ever, failed to finish a meal? But now I find out that the cat is being served lobster and salmon and crab – and she never consumes all of it! This means there are little containers of delectable snacks lying around and how can I be blamed for making sure they get eaten? Why do you get so mad? As long as the pet food is going to the pets, isn’t that what is important?
Then there’s play-time. I think we can clearly see that I am a big dog, descended from a noble line of hunters accustomed to chasing prey and attacking it. Haven’t I nearly managed to take down a few cars as they’ve driven past the house? The cat is about the size of a possum and in my view should behave like one, but when I attempt to chase her, she hunches up and spits at me! This cannot be sanitary. And shouldn’t she be declawed? I’m very concerned about the potential for damage to the furniture plus my nose.
Speaking of sanitation, do you realize that the cat goes to the bathroom in the house? And not in the drinking basins like you do, but in a sandbox in the basement! What are we going to say if some woman brings her baby over to play in the sandbox and the cat has been using it as a toilet? I used to police the thing for you, but you put it up out of my reach for some reason.
Another thing: I don’t understand why the cat is allowed up on the bed and I’m not. I am far more cuddly than any stupid cat. I think her purring sounds unhealthy and may be a sign of tuberculosis. And why doesn’t she ever get a bath? She smells like saliva from licking her paws – you’d never catch me licking such ridiculous places. I often smell wonderful from rolling in road kill, yet you give me baths all the time!
And speaking of sleeping, sometimes I will be taking a nap and she’ll come right up and lie down beside me. Usually I’m too tired to do anything about it, but then later the other dogs smell her on me and crack a lot of jokes at my expense.
So, not to exaggerate, but the cat has brought the family to complete ruin. I’m sorry I’ve got to be the one to bring it to your attention, but now that I have I think we can all agree that we should go back to the way it was, when I was the number-one pet.
Yours truly, The Dog.
© 2010 W. BRUCE CAMERON – USED BY PERMISSION. BRUCE IS AUTHOR OF ‘A DOG’S PURPOSE’ AND ‘THE CAMERON COLUMN’ – SEE WWW.WBRUCECAMERON.COM.