Cats and Dogs

Po Boy Views

By

Phil LaMancusa

Reigning

Or

Cats and Dogs

            “Dogs are like people are and cats are like people want to be”. That’s what Nonna LaMancusa told me so many years ago; before I could understand what she meant by that statement, I became it. Observe your critters and see for yourself.  Cats and Dogs.

            It’s been a long day; a long year, a long life; you drag yourself home dog tired (no one ever gets ‘cat tired’) and count on the solace of your pets. You open your door and there the pup sits, wagging and gazing into your eyes with nothing short of unconditional love and admiration. The cat wants to know where dinner is and why it’s late. The dog has chewed up your favorite unfinished novel and/or your leather skirt/baseball glove and looks ashamed knowing that they’re in for some “BAD DOG!!” discipline. The cat has just peed in your fresh laundry and try, just try, to correct its behavior and you’ll get hissed at like a snake and clawed into shredded wheat.

            It’s time for medicine and you reach over to Fido’s mouth, pry it open and in goes the meds; try that on Tiger Lily and be prepared to get that Tetanus shot, seriously. Good Ole Rover will happily go to the vet, he’s cool as long as there’s treats; will endure any embarrassment or invasion. Weigh him, spray him, spay him, prod and poke him; it’s all good as long as something that tastes like bacon is on the other end of where the thermometer happens to be lodged. What treatment does Little Mittens get? A carrier with a towel or blanket, catnip and maybe a favorite toy and you stuff her in like toothpaste back into a tube; get to the clinic and you have to dump her out (you dare not reach in) in the manner of the trash pick-up guys with the Doc and two Vet Techs ready to hold her down by whatever appendages are the least likely to end in human bloodshed. The growl that she emits will chill you to the bone, there is no reasoning with that feline.

            Off to work you go in the morning, leaving Boomer with sad eyes slowly wagging his tail and getting ready for another day filled with separation anxiety and sadness, while Fluffy and MiniPuss are planning a day of sleeping, grooming and possibly a little Oprah watching; perhaps they’ll shred the curtains while Pluto pines. While you’re gone Scooby Doo will hold himself until his bladder bursts while Mistress Taffy can saunter to the litter box, relieve herself and then scatter the litter like confetti for you to step on in your bare feet.

            It’s a NoNo for Deputy Dawg to jump on furniture and the most he can hope for is to be able to sneak up onto the bed after you’ve passed out; try to keep Sylvester off the top shelves in your kitchen, the dresser drawer that you left open or taking up a perch in front of your computer screen (while you’re working) and witness attention spans in nanoseconds as he resumes the examination of his domain, top to bottom with impunity.

            Huckleberry Hound will bark at a branch rubbing against your window or the mailman or that new person in your life and hide and wet himself during a thunderstorm or fireworks; cats will hide under the bed or in the closet and let burglars strip your house as clean as Thanksgiving turkey in the home of starving Armenians. It’s true, a dog will give its life protecting you and yours; a feline will run like a rabbit and contemplate where the next meal will come from. There are stories of canines visiting gravesites and waiting at train stations; there are stories of cats that will travel for miles after being separated from their territory. Dogs are ready to destroy their enemies on sight, on the other hand, cats like to torment their prey, sometimes for long periods of time, watching them suffer futilely the ping pong batting that leads them to their personal circle of heaven.

            There are exceptions to all this; a dog that seeks spiritual enlightenment, a cat that doesn’t already have it. There are cats that can be trained (even herded) and dogs that don’t pick up chicken bones on their walk.  There are outdoor cats that wait for the sound of your car and will purr for you as you feed and love on them, sitting on your lap drooling in ecstasy. There are dogs that will run as far and as wide away from home (and you) at the drop of a hat like Io being chased by gadflies; open the door, off they go.

            Very seldom do you hear someone say that they want to come back as a dog; it’s a dog’s life, they do the work, pull the sleds, herd cattle, jump into cold water to retrieve that duck that you shot; cats are definitely not of that ilk. Yep, we want to come back as cats. Cats create territory, nest, pick their caretakers (no one ever really ‘owns’ a cat) and settle in until death do you part; if you cross a cat, they will drop you faster than a hot potato and find greener pastures. A dog will keep coming back for more of whatever treatment you give them, returning unconditional love and loyalty without question.

            Of course, the biggest suckers are the bipeds that love, care, clean, feed, and pay the veterinarian bills for these creatures that we take in as our surrogate children and mourn inconsolably when they cross that Rainbow Bridge; you know who you/we are.