Dogs Are Better Than Cats

Cats are like mini gods. I mean, once they even were actual gods, in old Egypt for example. They’re still treated like mini gods. They act like mini gods. But the fact of the matter is that they are not mini gods, even though they think they are. They’re just like mini gods. They like to be complete jerks and then give you those fake puppy-dog eyes. Here’s a 20 second video of a cat being a complete jerk.

Dogs, on the other hand, are friends. They care if you’re sick, they’ll wake you up when your house is on fire (always turn off the stove after you’re done using it!), and they jump all over the place and lick your face when you return home from work or when you wake up from your hangover. (Side note: you’re more likely to get a serious illness from kissing a person than from kissing a dog.) But, please, for your own dignity and that of your family and close friends, do not make out with a dog.

I want to tell you a completely fictional story about why I think dogs are better than jerks, I mean cats. Here it goes.

When I was in my late single digit years, I discovered my aversion and distrust towards the Felis catus creatures because my neighbor had a demonic cat who would constantly deliver packages in the form of fecal matter to our doorstep. Right smack in the middle of our doorstep, like, “Hey losers, I’m a mini god and I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, to whomever I want, whyever I want.” At some point, I decided to prove that creature wrong and give it a sincere reality check.

My nine-year-old self would regularly go to the playground and act like a dinosaur with friends. I’d usually T-Rex the whole place up, being all ferocious and petrifying my other dinosaur companions by eating leaves and acting like each individual leaf was an Argentinian steak. I had a severely hardcore childhood, yes.

One fateful afternoon, my neighbor’s cat felt the need to perch on the wooden beam that held up the swings. “That demon,” I thought to myself as soon as my eyes caught a glimpse of that evil creature. “I’m gonna catch it and show it who is the real boss around here. I’m a freaking T-Rex after all.” I noticed that it was staring in my eyes, right into my very soul. I knew that it was its tactic of intimidating me, but I wasn’t planning on giving in at any cost. I walked over to the beam, even though I couldn’t reach the cat due to its elevated location and my short T-Rex arms and overall limited height. I told it to jump down and face me like a lion, since lions are just huge cats, and most cats think they’re all that anyway. It listened to me, not because it respected me, but because it was like, “Yeah, I’ma show this kid what’s up!”

It jumped down and stood right in front of me, staring at my eyes. Then it lunged towards me and I swatted it off of me back onto the ground. It immediately turned its back on me, for whatever reason, so I grabbed its furry demon tail. “Not so lionish anymore now, eh cat?” I said. With that, I started to perform the very controversial Helicopter Maneuver. There are three simple steps to performing the Helicopter Maneuver:

1. Grab a feline creature by its tail.

2. Swing it in circles above your head, much like the horizontal rotation of helicopter rotor blades.

3. Release the feline creature’s tail and watch it fly.

After I watched it soar through the air like a deformed eagle, my 160-year-old neighbor yelled from her window, “Bist du völlig verrückt geworden?” which roughly translates into, “Have you completely lost your mind?” I answered with an evil grin and nothing more. You know, to make a point. She kept on shouting and screaming at me in what seemed to be German, but I didn’t bother listening to what she had to say. I tasted the sweet flavour of revenge. I simply walked away with my chest out, my head held high, my T-Rex arms stretched victoriously into the afternoon sky, as you do. That cat never dared to come close to my house ever again. I don’t even remember seeing it after that heated standoff (the cat wasn’t hurt because this story isn’t true).

That’s the end of that story, which was the beginning of my extreme antipathy towards the impersonal, untrustworthy, selfish, and ungrateful feline creatures. Maybe I just don’t like cats because I always end up being around the vicious ones.

To be fair, I have met one cat in Arizona, where I learned about how to run a coffee shop, who really grew close to my heart. I named it Catso. Catso was, and still is (I hope), a cute little furry creature who would always walk across my lap, begging for me to pet it. After a while, though, it would decide that petting time was over, and it would leap off of my thighs with such force that it left claw-marks on my sensitive (yet very manly) skin.

I love dogs. As the incredibly true saying goes, “A dog is a man’s best friend.” My dog, Chilly, is currently 12 years old. He is a so-called millennium dog, born in the year 2,000. Chilly doesn’t shit on my doorstep, he doesn’t walk across my lap and leave claw-marks on my thighs (most probably because he’s as big as a lion), and he doesn’t sleep on my laptop keyboard when I write blog posts.

Dogs, in comparison to cats, have personality. They show a lot of emotion. Cats don’t do that. Cats do cute things, though. That’s all they got going for themselves. Thank the Internet for trying to give cats personality since they do not have one. The whole cat species is way more famous because of all the lonely ladies who post videos of their mini gods on YouTube.

I will leave you with this invaluable piece of advice: If you live in an area known for high rates of burglary and crime, it would be wise to purchase a dog big enough to eat an average cat. If you live in such an area and you do not own a dog and, instead, own a cat, then you should immediately make an appointment with a psychologist for a professional assessment of your ability to apply logical reasoning to your everyday thought-process. Cats won’t protect your home from burglars because cats don’t give a damn about your wellbeing. Improve your home’s security settings by adding a burglar-proof dog who, at the same time, would be your best friend.

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