Cats empathetic? I disagree
By Daisy
I noticed up above that your editor tried to tell you that cats are – don't even think it – empathetic creatures. She implied that we actually care if you're sick, or hurt, or just a little sad, and that we'll try to comfort you.
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Before you get any crazy ideas, remember who is who in this relationship. You are the human, and I am the cat. I am here to grace the world with my presence, and you are here to serve as my house maid. That means cleaning my litter box on a daily basis so that I don't have to dip my paws in anything remotely dirty, feeding me upon demand, making sure that I have cool, clear water available at all times, and vacuuming regularly so that I don't have to be bothered with lying down in my own cat hair. If I am sleeping on a chair you want to sit on, simply don't sit there. If I am curled up on top of you, simply don't move. On occasion I also prefer that you follow me with a damp paper towel wiping up paw prints if I stepped in something on the kitchen counter. Yes, I said the kitchen COUNTER. Don't go there.
Now it's true that I will slice up anyone that tries to harm you with a single claw and reflexes like lightning. And OK, perhaps I will roll over and look as cute as possible to try to make you smile, especially when you're feeling blue, or I'll rub against you and fall on my side. And maybe I'll curl up next to you at night and purr to try to comfort you. Truthfully, if anything happened to you, I'd...
Wait, what am I saying here? I lost my train of thought. I think I'm done for now. Go get me some fresh water, will you?
You talked to the cat first?
by Orson
My name is Orson. I am spiritual evolution's crowning achievement. A spirit that once enlivened an amoeba in the sea and traveled through the likes of Moses, Spartacus, Betsy Ross, Sigmund Freud, Winston Churchill, Rosa Parks, MLK, JFK and Princess Di has landed now in the ultimate creature. My spirit has never -- and will never -- pass through Dr. Phil.
While not humble, I might say that I am the epitome of wisdom, interdependence, compassion, reason, empathy, loyalty and love. If you send me your tales of love, woe and triumph, I will be happy to answer your questions and share my insights into your personal and professional dilemmas. I may, from time to time, approach you with food for thought.
My advice is not intended to be taken in lieu of professional counsel. Indeed, I recommend such assistance, as it is likely that only after an endeavor of this type will you fully appreciate the sublime perspective of..........the dog.
by Opus, our Night Life Columnist
Night Light
I suppose you’re wonderin’ what I could possibly have to say that would be of any interest to people normally accustomed to chatting about their high bred cats or their low bred dogs or what have you. Consider me the voice of reason. No passion for chew toys, no excessive slobber for treats. No senseless jumping up and down just because you managed to find your way home again after a few minutes absence. No total loss of class or decorum when catnip is anywhere in the vicinity nor any desire to shred your drapes or drop upon you while you’re unsuspecting from a high shelf or the refrigerator. Never once have I coughed up something you would consider “unattractive” on your pillow. Nope. Just reason with a touch of common sense, mixed with the cool head of country and a bit of southern sanity (though I am sure there are those of you who would consider the latter an oxymoron – your opinion of course). For now I’ll ignore the comments regarding me as a “giant rat” or “future roadkill”. This from members of an “advanced species”? Please. Losin’ your fur and having to work your whole life in something referred to as a “rat race” to stay warm because of it, doesn’t seem to put you ahead on the “advanced” curve to me. OK, so I won’t call you “hairless apes” if you refrain from the “giant rat” comments. I’m a marsupial and a rat should be so lucky. And by the way, I have never known any self-respecting rat to get himself involved in a “race” of any kind so you might want to reconsider your terminology on that one as well. If you want an honest opinion, just ask. I might take a minute or two to consider all angles, but when I do get around to an answer it’ll be straightforward – unless of course that sweet smell of grubs under a nearby log happens to distract me.
*Yawn* What the heck? Oh, it’s her again. Makin’ those “kiss-kiss” sounds she loves so. And from a couple of tail lengths away right in my face! Does she really think when two opossums are strollin’ around in the wild we talk to each other that way? Still, I reckon she feels better about talkin’ to an opossum if she fusses a bit. You know you would think it was unexpected to find me here, that I wouldn’t have made the most of the convenient cat door the humans installed in the basement door, (supposedly for the cats of course). Then they put down cat food! Not such a bad life and as long as she’s smitten with me and thinks I’m cute I might just as well sit back and let her. No harm done. Still, I’d suggest eattin’ some compost to freshen her breath if I thought she’d listen. I figure’d openin’ my mouth and showin’ off my awesome teeth would impress her and back her off, but no she just said “oh, yes, yes, I know you. You’re big and tough and I’m impressed.” Hmmm…call me suspicious but I don’t think she meant it. Might be because after mom was hit by a car, and my siblings and I were found, this crazy lady helped raised me.
Read the rest of Opus’ column on our blog!
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