Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Species confusion

So I have two dogs and two cats.  Also two parakeets and a parrot, although the birds don't figure into this story.  THIS story is about the dogs and the cats.

Anyway.  The two dogs get along with each other.

The two dogs get along with the two cats.

The two cats get along with the two dogs.

The two cats do NOT get along with each other.

It's been an interesting dynamic to watch.  The dogs will be sitting in the family room, emitting dog smells, when one of the cats saunters in and goes, "Yo.  Sup, Home Slices?"  And then much sniffing of front and end parts commences before they all collapse in a pile of pet to watch TV together.

HOWEVER.

When the two cats spy each other, they growl and go into attack mode and send feathers flying.  Which means I have cat feathers in my house.  Everywhere.

For years I've wondered why this happens.  And then it occurred to me.  Both of my cats think they're dogs, which means they are morally obligated to take out the cat in the room, i.e. each other.

And guess what?  I do not have enough money for all the therapy it would take for these cats to figure out who they really are.

4 comments:

radagast said...

Therapy is a waste of money on cats anyway. Try to hypnotize them and they just bat at the pocket watch. Try to talk to them about their narcissism and they go over to the piano to video themselves for the YouTube. Best to just put them in Schrodinger's box for a while and let them contemplate the chaos of the universe. Or take a nap.

James said...

Great post. This reminds me of the joke Thomas tells Victor in Smoke Signals, which in paraphrase form, goes: "Hey Victor, did you ever hear the one about the dog and cat that had babies together? The parents are ok, but the kids are screwed up. They don't know if they are dats or cogs." Cats are a whole bundle of neurotic energy its amazing that we even care about them. I am pretty certain they don't care much about us.

Lisa B. said...

cat feathers: lolololol

shelley said...

Samwise thinks he's a little girl. When I'm dishing out fruit snacks, he sits patiently in line, as if I'm going to hand him a pack. Then he'll try to steal them from the other little girls. Same with suckers, or snacks, or dinner. Or preschool; he always hops right out of the car like he's going to the same class. He genuinely DOES NOT understand why he can't do everything they do.