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Thursday, April 18, 2024

Slices of Life, Doggone good advice from the Cat

By: Jill Pertler

Meow. It’s me again, the Cat. You may remember my discourse from a previous occasion. Today I’ve brought my vast cat intelligence to fill your ordinary day with a dose of feline insight. Lucky you.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: I have the universe at my whiskertips and I’m not afraid to say so. Cats rule the world. Oh sure, humans pay the rent, but we control the house – and all the contents therein.

Including the dog.

Take my dog (and I mean that in the literal sense). I’d hand her over in an instant. Doing so would simplify my life. I’m all for simplicity – more so when it benefits me. Trouble is, the humans here have grown attached to the loud, slobbering, tail-wagging beast. Although technically I am in charge, I try not to overtly displease the humans – in particular the ones with access to the catnip.

The dog, however, is another story. I displease her whenever felinely possible.

Dog. What kind of a term is that? Say it out loud in the way you humans are fond of doing. Dog. Even the word sounds less than. Less than what? That’s the point. Dog is just less than. I would apologize for my cattitude, but I am incapable of insincerity. I am a cat (thank goodness) ; my purr resonates only the truth.

I live with a canine, which is the term I prefer over the colloquial and unsophisticated “dog.” (You might say I am a refined feline.)

Our pooch outweighs me by at least 70 pounds, clearly giving her the physical advantage. She knows nothing of this, because she is (repeat after me with distain) a dog. She watches helplessly as I drink from her water dish, lie on her doggy pillow and, on occasion (when I am desperate), eat her food. The dog understands something many humans do not: cats possess wisdom and finesse allowing superiority over the canine species.

Either that, or it’s the claws. Any dog that’s had a run in with yours truly will tell you one thing: my claws are sharp and I’m not afraid to use them. Okay, that’s two things, but who’s counting? (Certainly not the dog. Incapable.)

As a cat I experience infinite knowledge, not to mention the ability to count that high. My cleverness is equaled only by my gorgeous appearance, self-assured confidence and perfect tail posture. Well, that and my naturally humble disposition.

While it’s clear dogs will never be my equal, I’m sure they must possess some smidgen of value. If I could think of what that might be, I would write about it here, but there’ll be plenty of opportunity to explore that subject during another lifetime. (I can probably fit it in between naps.)

Speaking of which, I believe I’m approaching time for a catnap right now. Frequent snoozing keeps my instincts honed and my mind sharp. I’ve shared some keen tidbits with you today. I hope you are grateful for my dialogue. If not, well, let’s just say I won’t lose any sleep over the matter. Because, until next time, I remain…

Apathetically Yours,

The Cat.

Last week’s column: A message to my favorite child

Jill Pertler, award-winning syndicated columnist and author of “The Do-It-Yourselfer’s Guide to Self-Syndication” is collecting fans on Facebook on her Slices of Life page. Email her at pertmn@qwest.net; or visit her website at http://marketing-by-design.home.mchsi.com/.

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