Topic 7: Just because one cat is an ice queen doesn't mean everyone's dog is a frat boy.

Ohhh Andrew. What have you gotten yourself into.

I suppose I should preface this by saying there really aren't any domestic animals that instantly come to my mind that I don't like. Yeah, they're all pretty cool by me. Except maybe Ferrets. I hear they smell... a lot. I should also mention that I, too, am a cat owner. Not because I prefer them per se, but because I got her when I still lived with my parents and our back yard is basically the pool, which leaves no place for an animal that needs to run around.

My title speaks of the importance of shopping for a pet. Yes, just like shopping for clothing. Or even men (ladies, you get me). You have to shop around. Try things on and meet new people. You're not going to take home the first dress/man/cat you see... unless you're a slut. And yes that somehow magically applies to all three situations. More to the world of pets, though, you go to a couple shelters to look for an animal. You meet them, then come back to play with them. Make sure you'll get along. Make sure it'll get along with your other animals if you have any. Make sure it's the right pet for you. And also like men, if it's mange, snaggle-toothed and hissing, you're less likely to take it home. Heh.

To your point, Andy, yes. Dogs do require more care. They do get overly excited, they do not have the 'litter box' option, and smell a bit worse. But this is why dog owners teach their dog not to jump. They get a pooper scooper. They wash the animals so they don't smell like ass, but instead, baby powder fresh. And the other arguments just don't work because *gasp* you have to buy cats food too. You have to pick up their poop, though theirs is usually in one place and you can leave it for a few days before picking it all up (though you shouldn't). And if you have a cat like I do, she begs AND needs lots of attention. She also chewed and scratched furniture as well as slept on my bed when I would allow it (she purrs too much).

The man's best friend bit, well, I have no argument for. I have no idea (nor do I care) where the phrase came from. Probably some lonely sap who couldn't get laid but his dog would snuggle up to him on cold winter nights. A cute thought, but hardly a best friend. Even though dogs (and even cats... mine does anyway) have instincts that can tell when you're upset and will come sit with you. Even though they're great listeners (even if you do have to scratch them behind their ears to get them to stay for more than 10 minutes). Even if they've been known to save the lives of their owners because of that neediness, that loyalty.... I still don't see the 'best friend' bit. Or do I? The world may never know.

So to wrap my little soap box monologue, it's all about the individual pet. I guarantee if I shopped around enough, I could find you a dog that you didn't mind. I realize you'd probably never truly like it, but you'd at least be able to deal with it and maybe even be tempted to pat it every now and then. Or take it for a walk. Just like your cat is almost the polar opposite of my cat, there are dogs that can be the polar opposite of what you describe. Yes they're rare, but they DO exist.

Plus, I really want a puppy some day...

A rarely discussed topic comes to it's conclusion

Topic 7: Cats rule, dogs drool

On a lighter note, or at least considerably lighter than some of our poli-sci, John Locke vs. Ken Kesey topics, I want to explain to all of you out there in TV land why I have chosen a path more akin to inner calm, rather than the more masculine way-of-the-spaz. To rephrase, here’s why I prefer cats to dogs.

Firstly, I’d like to address the fallacy that the Canis lupus familiaris, rather than, say, coffee, women, $krilla, or some kind of woman made of coffee and $krilla, is man’s “best friend”. In short, if I had a friend who made me buy him food, slept on my bed, chewed my things incessantly, didn’t contribute anything to monthly household expenses, and crapped on my lawn, I would be hard pressed to call him my “best” friend. Come to think of it, I pity anyone who reads this and finds a lot of similarities between my exaggerated explanation of the canine society and their best pal.

These acts of sleeping, lounging, begging and pooping are more akin to frat boys and vagabonds than what I would imagine my birth-to-earth bosom buddy. At least with cats there’s no surprise. They don’t really care for you, and have no intention of doing anything they don’t want to. But you expect that from a cat, and from the moment they finally shed all shreds of adorability and verge from kitten to fully fledged feline, they make their disdain for you abundantly clear. You’re more of their life-support than their life partner, but, again, you knew that from the start. Don’t give me a turn and call it a caramel. And don’t give me a hyperactive lay-about and call him my best friend.

On a related note, I’d like to address the relative neediness of the Canis lupus familiaris to the Felis catus. A dog requires walking, petting, poop-scooping (how many “best friends” make you join them in the bathroom as they do their business and leave you to flush it down?) petting, fetching, petting, quieting down, and petting. It’s similar to a child; a child that will never support you during your golden years. A cat, however, requires much less. A cat asks little more of you than to give it a box to pee in, and to get the hell out of its sight. The cat is more like an emotional and angstful teenager with far too much eye makeup, interacting with you only for basic amenities and reminding you to knock before you barge into his room.

So, to wrap it up, let me break it down for you old school, dogs = needy, overly excited, drunken frat boys. Cats = Robert Smith. The choice is simple, really, and if you’re lucky, your feline feller might just write the next “Boys Don’t Cry”, or at the very least “Lovecats"