Saturday, August 14, 2010

Dogs and Cats

You can see that scheming, diabolical look in their eyes.
At least this way Kristi can see that I haven't killed them yet.

We're sitting our daughter's dogs for four days. (Wish they would sit, or obey any other command for that matter.)  We do this because we love our daughter.  They are a pair of Dachshunds.  They've taken over our lives.  It is a takeover of the hostile variety.

We're fortunate that it is cool weather and that Mosquito Abatement has the bugs under control.  For the sake of the rugs we've been able to leave the patio door ajar so they can come and go as they please.  "As they please" being the operative phrase.  So far they've been pleased to go outside.  Remind me to wear shoes on the lawn for a few days.  We've placed pads around the house just in case, but past experience has shown that the dogs think the pads indicate where not to go.

Weenie dog's would only qualify for remedial obedience school as they are most certainly learning impaired.  Essentially, they're cats that bark.  You probably already know that I harbor no affection for cats either.  We love our other daughter and so we are the proud owners to two creatures of that ilk.  The only good thing about the dogs is that it's been three days since we laid eyes on the cats.  I don't know how they're faring in exile, but then I don't really care either.  I couldn't possibly be so fortunate as to have cats that would consider this sufficient an insult as to warrant moving out.

Have you ever noticed that pet owners think their pets are their children, until they have children.  Then reality sets in and their pets lose their anthropomorphic status and become just ordinary dogs and cats.  This must be quite a shock to a pet.  They must miss their former status.  Whereas before they were honored guests at Petsmart whose employees referred to their owners as their parents; where their food was gourmet; now they get generic chow from IFA, get fat, neglected and for once, actually need the pet shrink that was once their second best friend.  No more play dates with the poodle down the street.  No more grooming at the beauty parlor.  Goodbye to manicured claws, hello to dingle-berries.  No more pampering kennels when the folks are out of town; just extra big bowls of chow and water and abandonment in the back yard.

I, for one never kept pets before the kids arrived.  That was duty the kids pressed me into as they grew.  "I'll feed him, I promise!" we heard to the accompaniment of batted eye-lids and a pouty "pleeeeease."  The feeding lasted a day and any interest in the actual pet faded in a week.  Pets, with the noted exception gerbils last a lot longer than a week.  Gerbils have babies in about a week and then begin cannibalistic rituals that quickly render the $60.00 Habitrail you bought into yard sale fodder.

We have a cat that has looked to be at death's door for years now.  He's really let himself go.  He doesn't groom himself any more.  His fur is a mess.  He seems depressed all the time.  I can't understand why he doesn't spend more time in traffic.  We've had him for 15 years!  He looks insulted all the time.  He probably hasn't forgiven us for the last time the dogs took over the house.  At one time I thought I'd let him into my lap for what some TV show billed as some soothing companionship.  I'd never felt soothed by a pet in my life.  Thinking perhaps I hadn't done my part I gave it a try.  When I finished I had to go take a shower to get rid of the little puffs of stray fur that kept following me around, clinging to eyebrows, tickling in ears, getting suddenly drawn up a nostril or something.  I couldn't quit sneezing and have steered clear ever since.

The other cat insists on weaving through my legs.  This has resulted in a kick every couple of hours for the past six years.  I can only conclude that cats love to get kicked and have learned that leg weaving is the way to bring that about.  Works every time.

As I sit here listening to little claws clattering over the Pergo, I wonder who in their right mind would do this to themselves?  Is there a diabolical Alpha Dog somewhere who really is anthropomorphic?  Has he taken over the media and spread the propaganda that pet ownership is somehow soothing, somehow therapeutic?  Has he brainwashed us into thinking that having your big toe mistaken for a squeaky toy is somehow appealing?

Humans of the world, rise up.  Put a stop to this madness!  Stop spending billions on pet food, meds and accessories!  Stop replacing shredded furniture and stinky rugs.  Stop, just for a minute, and think how soothing it would be to sleep an entire night without barking dogs or bellyaching cats wanting to come in or go out or both.  Put a stop to the indignity of having your crotch sniffed by every dog you encounter or having the butt of every cat flounced in your face.  How have we let these self serving creatures gain such hold on us.  Rise up and put them in their place, back in the barn.  Where is the SPCH when we need them!

1 comment:

Candleman said...

SPCH is the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Humans.

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