Psychologists and philosophers are always dividing society into groups of humanity. Be it the ‘haves’ or ‘have nots’ or the ‘visionaries’ and the ‘disapprovers’.
That’s all very well but I feel there should be flurry of post-grad papers on Dog versus Feline.
Specifically, ‘woman with Dog’ (WWD) and ‘woman with Cat’ (WWC).
These two groups have been feuding gently and not so gently for centuries. WWC’s claim that they adore the independence of cats, their grace and ‘adorable’ aloofness. All this conveys to me is that WWC’s have huge intimacy issues, enjoy the crumbs of affection from and are in co-dependent relationships with the their pets.
Cats don’t give a flying fuck about anyone except themselves. They’ll betray you in a second. Flicking their tails seductively in a theatrical extravaganza of starvation when they’ve been stuffing their faces at No’s 7, 21B and the Big House at the end of the road.
I’ve watched their eyes gazing maliciously at puppy/baby/me and you can hear the subliminal threat sunk deep into that hypnotic purring.
‘I’m going to get you as soon as those other humans leave the room. It may not be today or even next week. It might be in a year but I’m going to get you good, dog lover’.
If I sound bitter its because it became personal for me during a skirmish with a Siamese called Loving Lily of the Pond or something equally stupid.
Now WWD’s? The salt of the earth. Lovely girls. We adore the unconditional tail wagging and generous amounts of love. Dogs need us you see. They are loyal and don’t go pissing off to neighbours charming them with pathetic tail waving and a few well-placed mews. Dogs wag. It may not pretty and it can be downright dangerous but at least its real.
WWC’s may say that WWD’s have issues of insecurity. That we need the unconditional acceptance of dogs because we are sorry bunch of spinsters with no relationship and not a single one in sight. Sitting in night after night on the sofa watching DVD’s and reading books, getting pissed in a lonely, sad way because we have no relationship. No. Not even a shadow of one. Nowhere in sight. Nope.
I’m being watched through the kitchen window as I write this by a fluffy white menace that is staring at me intently. It’s tail waving back and forth and back and forth. I may have suggested earlier to it that it was a Blofeld’s cat wannabe. I’ve seen you taunt my dog, you little bastard.
No cats were physically hurt in the writing of this article.