Here is a way you can tell you’re a dog person. Several times a day you say “Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit! Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. Good BOY!”
Here is a way you can tell you’re a dog. You are lost in adoration of your favorite person who is barking at you in a friendly way and after a good long while you pop your butt down on the floor for one second and back up again and your person is so very very happy! You did it! You made your person happy! Nothing makes you happier than making your person that happy and it only took one butt-pop! OH MY GOODNESS THERE’S A TREAT! It’s a wonderful world!
Here is a way you can tell you’re a cat person. You are, yourself, sitting, all of your own volition, and there is a cat on your lap, and you have to pee pretty bad, but you don’t get up just yet because your cat looks so comfortable. You think there is something perfect about how very comfortable your cat looks, as though your cat has got everything figured out and is not given to worry. You are in a world where everything’s going downhill on a greased sled at every level from the biosphere to your own personal craposphere, and if you could just feel as comfortable as your cat looks, for just a little while, you could manage to hang on. If you do anything to disturb your very comfortable-looking cat, you are toying with the mechanics of happiness in ways you might never fully recover from. Somewhere in the universe there are credits piling up in your favor for the amount of times you have not disturbed your very comfortable-looking cat, and some day, if there is any justice at all, you will be able to redeem them for a reward. As long as your cat is still in your lap and looking comfortable, you are not a failure. You have purpose.
Here is a way you can tell you’re a cat: you’re comfortable.
You’re never not comfortable. Your head may be upside-down or cranked sideways and you’ve got one foot draped over an edge and the other sticking straight up and the third over your eyes and the fourth missing altogether, but you’re comfortable. Periodically a portion of your pudding will quiver and twitch in pursuit of a dream mouse, but then it will settle back down into a state of even deeper satisfaction. You can be decanted into any shape space and fill it like a bag of beans. You are strenuously content, and any departure from that condition will be regarded as a tragic misalignment of the proper world order. You are boneless. At any moment you can rig up a functional skeleton for the purpose of self-maintenance or hygiene but as soon as your immediate requirements are fulfilled, you will soundlessly revert to custard. You will settle back down into the perpetual eye of all the world’s storms. In a plush onesie.
And you will be comfortable.
The cartoonist Larson was very good on the subject of dogs. Do you remember the one, 'What you say to your dog – What your dog hears'?
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah GINGER! blah blah blah blah blah blah
I liked the one with pigeons on a tree, seeing people underneath with targets on their head. Caption: How pigeons view the world.
Basically, I liked all of them. He immediately got a hundred imitators but nobody came close.
Some of them, like Non Sequiter make me laugh. But Larson had me laughing until tears came out of my eyes. I was so sad when he decided not to make his cartoons anymore.
I have his book, Wildlife Preserves, with the cover showing a bunch of wild animals crammed into a jelly jar.
Aww! Missed that one!
I've been getting educated in dog psychology since I started training my 5 month old Sheltie. Don't say, "Sit sit sit sit sit!" Don't say, "Come come come come come here boy here boy come come come!" All that noise just makes you sound like a squeaky toy and creates the sense that it's playtime. Instead, give the command one. time. only. Then wait until the dog does it, and reward him. Much time waiting. This is slow learning. Trying to get into the zen of it. Having some success. But, by god, he's cute — when he's not eating something disgusting. Dogs!
I like cats too but our last cat was pretty gross. He pulled a bunch of quilting fabric out of the cupboard and used it like a litter box on the sewing room floor.
Our father wanted to trap the raccoon that was tearing up his vegetable garden. He got a live trap and baited it with cat food. Next morning, there's my mother's big old fat cat Louie, calmly yawning in the trap. We kids thought that was hysterical.
I know cats like to get in the middle of a quilt but that's stepping over the line.
I just knew you quilted, Susan. All the best people do.
I am a cat person(although I do like dogs) and my black cat is a very cuddly girl.
I like dogs like I like kids. If someone else keeps them.
I used hand signals with my dog interspersed with vocal commands to get her attention. But mostly I just needed to hold my hand out level and she’d sit.
Our one and only dog was exceptionally well trained and reliable but the method used would land me in jail today.
I have often said that in my next life I would like to come back as a cat. Preferably (which has challenges) one of my own cats so that my needs are appropriately met.
I'm sticking with marmot…the view's better.
I'm curious what prompted this, but this was worth a double-read; sure loved the part about piling up credits somewhere for all the cat accommodating! It's been 30 years since I had a cat, but the older I become the more I'm lonely for one. Go figure.
You might need to indulge that. Git yourself some more credits.
I am firmly in the "both" camp. Why restrict yourself?
No reason at all! You are also in the Goat camp!