Dogs & Cats

[***Mr D***]

Excerpts from a Dog's Daily Diary

8:00 am - Dog food! My favourite thing!

9:30 am - A car ride! My favourite thing!

9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favourite thing!

10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!

12:00 pm - Lunch! My favourite thing!

1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favourite thing!

3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!

5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favourite thing!

7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favourite thing!

8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!

11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!








Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. *******s.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released -and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...

[grego]

Very good that Mr D.

[jambutty]

I think that is a bit harsh on cats but then it is each to their own. Apart from the last 7 years there has always been a cat in my life, even whilst serving in the Royal Navy. Every shore base that I served on had at least one cat around and quite often a dog too. They didn’t belong to anyone particular person – they were just there. We even had a cat on board a warship.

PROLOGUE
In the early fifties there was a proliferation of monologues performed to background music that extolled the virtues and vices of, a son, daughter, mother, father, dog and even a horse. This genre of anecdote, mainly recorded by Americans for Americans, found it's way across the Atlantic where it was reasonably well received by the more sentimental inhabitants still trying to get over the ravages of a six year war that all but destroyed those same inhabitants.

Usually labelled "What Is A Something?" it reminded the listener that in spite of all the trials and tribulations that life can inflict onto the inhabitants of this planet, each subject had some endearing and deserving feature which always outweighed and sometimes excused the lesser liked facets of character.

As far as I am aware no such prose was ever written about the cat. So in order to redress the balance a little, here is my epitaph to the humble house cat.

WHAT IS A CAT?
Of all the world's dwellers, a cat is perhaps the most widespread and least understood character of them all. Within wide boundaries, it is of uniform appearance, yet each individual animal has it's own character and personality which is generally somewhere between Florence Nightingale and Attila The Hun, depending on the cat's current outlook on life.

A cat can be of any colour or breed, yet it observes the same attitude of independence as has been it's feature for countless centuries. A cat is an enigma with a secret that has not been deciphered by the human race and never will be until such times as the feline deigns to allow it's mystery to be resolved. A cat is master in it's own house and bows to the will of no one yet appears to show a subservience to humans, but only until after it has eaten.

It can be found in, out of, around, on top of and next to houses, farms and dwelling places of humans where it exercises almost mystical control over those beings. A cat can be found on the roof of an adjoining shed when the sun is at it's warmest, on the softest and warmest seat in the house and under the cook's feet when some succulent piece of meat is being carved. A cat has many secret hiding places where it can rest in peace or hide when some strange nightly ritual forces humans to put the cat out for the night.

A cat loves play, good food, creamy milk and the softness and warmth of a human bed, particularly a child's bed. A cat hates cold, snow and ice even though it's luxurious fur is perfect as a warming blanket against the coldest of nights. In spite of being able to swim almost as well as any fish, a cat hates water and getting wet, yet will play with a dripping tap to the endless amusement of watching children.

As a kitten, a cat is a fighting, spitting, scratching bundle of lively fur only too ready to demolish whatever is in sight and then feign injured innocence as it is scolded and temporarily banished, whilst the mayhem has been brought back under human control. As a kitten, a cat is inquisitiveness on four legs and curiosity with an air of righteousness as it demolishes a newly decorated Xmas tree. As a kitten, anything and everything is a pretend mouse to be chased and harassed over every single inch of house room until it moves in for the kill.

In centuries past a cat was seen as a God, a Devil, a lucky omen and a harbinger of evil and terror. In ancient Egypt a cat was revered and often mummified before being laid to rest in it's own sarcophagus. In other lands a cat was and still is a source of food for the poor and a delicacy for the rich, whilst elsewhere the mere thought of eating a cat brings revulsion to the fore.

A cat will suffer being picked up, squeezed, pushed and even kicked away by thoughtless humans with no more than a look or pure disdain. Yet when those same humans have suffered a loss or been involved in some tragedy, the cat will unstintingly offer selfless love, affection and comfort matched by no other. In times of stress of it's humans, a cat is a paragon of virtue and good manners and will freely give it's love and affection in an attempt to make the human's life just that little bit better. The softness of a cat's fur and the mellow sound of it's contented purring will, in some magical way, soothe and comfort. A cat will bring solace and joy to it's masters whilst at the same time creating mayhem and confusion while chasing a mouse or playing with children.

A cat will readily forgive, not once but many times, any minor misdemeanours committed against it. But should it be badly mistreated a cat will turn it's back on the offending individual even if it means living off the land and sleeping in cold and draughty places.

When it is secure in it's surroundings, a cat will eat it's food with a daintiness matched only by some young lady at the end of her final year at some exclusive finishing school in Switzerland. At other times a cat will devour it's food as if there was no tomorrow and growl and hiss when someone approaches, even if it is one of it's own kittens that hasn't been weaned yet.

Yet in spite of all the problems that relationships with humans brings to a cat, the humble moggie is adored by most hated by some and tolerated by a few. Yet who could deny a place by a warm fire and a meal to an animal that loves humans just so long as they know their place.

[accymel]

Mr D now i know why i love cats

[Eric]

According to my little book on cat wisdom, a cat is poetry in motion while a dog is gibberish in neutral.

Of course, my dog would disagree.

[MargaretR]

Cats have staff not owners - when they nuzzle your ankles they are scent marking you as 'theirs' - I admire the independance & lack of subservience they show. I couldnt cope with all that mushy dog licking and 'walkies'

[mallard]

Yes thank,s for that i enjoyed reading it very nice to