The Gospel of Cats

I have a simple exercise I'd like you all to try. The next time you're in a small group of people, somehow incorporate the following sentence into the conversation: "I just really love cats!" A simple statement, one declaring only happiness and adoration. Yet it contains a certain controversy.  If I were a betting man, I'd lay a crisp hundred down in odds that you're going to be met with some sort of backlash.  One person is sure to declare "Ugh! I hate cats!" and the visible disgust of a sneering face will show that they mean business. These are the bizarre sort of people that become stiff and frigid if a friend's resident house cat approaches, stare blankly (and soullessly) at adorable kitty videos on youtube, and even stomp and hiss at any friendly stray that dares approaches. To those residing here at the Wilson manor, these sorts of people are considered cruel and depraved, yet these cat haters seem to pride themselves on their horrid outlook on life. Often they wrap themselves in a security blanket, snidely chiming that, compared to dogs, cats are every bit deserving of scorn. Dogs are, as they say, friendlier, more loyal, and cuter in general. I think it's time we dust off the ol' Taylor Wilson bible, and flip to the chapter right between the Book of Coldplay and the Testament of Harry Potter; I'm speaking of the Gospel of Cats.

There's a reason there was only one set of paw prints in the sand

"Dogs are so much friendlier than cats! Cats are furry little assholes that just ignore you all the time." It's seemingly difficult to counter this argument, since cats do appear to be distant douchebags. I'm not surprised this argument is so common, not because cats are actually unfriendly, just because they appear to be rude on a surface level. Dogs are friendly, yeah. They run up and jump about and bark and wag those little tails like  nuts. In my head I always imagine them to be yelling "Yayyyyyyyy!!!!!!" like that one mentally handicapped guy on that show about the prank-calling puppets. I do appreciate this outward, excited affection, but I still think cats are more intimate lovers. Allow me to tell of a parable that takes place in Chapter 4, Verse 9 of the feline gospel. One morning, bright and early before awaking for school, I felt a presence in my room. My beloved little bobcat kitty was nudging me from outside my cacoon of blankets. I lifted my comforter, and she came and laid right against me, purring like a deisel engine. This moment didn't last long, but she sealed the deal with a slight boop to the nose, and vanished into the darkness. Are cats going to run up and jump about like madmen in adoration of your presence? No. But they'll certainly show up when you least expect it, rubbing those fluffy cheeks against you again and again to mark you as their beloved.


"At least dogs are loyal! A dog would attack someone who broke into your house, but a cat would just hide like a coward!" As ludicrous as this sounds, the loyalty argument is often intertwined with this strange burglar situation. For one, a cat is much smaller and weaker than a dog. If we're arguing of superiority based on strength and size, then one could argue that men are superior to women. I'd gladly go along with that one, but the 1950's have long been over. Also, unless you have some sort of protective breed like a Shephard or a Doberman, the average mutt would gleefully chomp on a treat while an intruder burgled to his heart's content. All foolishness aside, there's that loyalty argument to address. Flipping forward a few pages brings us to the 8th verse of Chapter 2. It speaks of the aforementioned kitty (aptly named "Kitty") and her devotion to me. My mother told me that during the weekdays, Kitty would do her typical sleep/hide/eat regime, but always found time in her busy schedule to pencil in a daily appointment just for me. Around 4:00pm, from Monday to Friday, she would simply go sit and stare at the window, only leaving once my car pulled in the driveway. There she would greet me with a plethora of meows and chirps, likely telling me how much she missed me and how damn stupid my shaggy haircut looked. Cats may not be able to protect you from a home intruder, and they aren't just openly accepting of anyone. Like those blue dragon things on Avatar, you have to earn a cat's loyalty, but once you make the bond, they're truly yours for life.  

Kitty always kept her nose booger-free before a flight over Pandora

Another, last ditch pitch for the superiority of dogs is how much cuter dogs are compared to cats. Do I even need to address this? For one it's subjective to say what's cute and what's not, but for two......just...no. Cats are adorable and hilarious, and it's my humble opinion that you suck as a person if you can't see that. I don't want to dwell on this, though, because there's a final twist in this gospel. The closing verses of Chapter 9 (cause cats have nine lives, get it? lol) dispel a myth that's been building since the very beginning. I'm not a cat person. Nor am I dog person. I'm an animal person. Why must we turn this into a war? Why divide our people even further? Hell, we've got religion, politics, and sports teams for that already. If someone likes a cat, why rain on their parade? One could make an argument against dogs if they really tried (odor, loudness, destructive habits) but why bother? Dogs are awesome! Just like cats! I one day hope to have a home where I can teach this tolerant way of living to a strapping young pup and a curious little kit. Keep drinking that haterade, cat-haters. I'll be having a movie marathon with a cat on my lap and a dog at my feet. We'll be watching Homeward Bound 2: Lost in San Francisco. And you aren't invited. Just kidding.