A currently running commercial on television says, “No one ever takes the second biggest cookie.” Whoever wrote that stupid line never considered wives or mothers. I cannot count the number of times my wife or I would bring out a cookie for ourself and one for the other person. Invariably, if I went into the kitchen and came out with and offered her a choice of two cookies, she would take the smaller of the two. I knew she would, she knew she would, but I never didn’t offer her first choice. Or there’s two cookies left in the cookie jar. She would always give whatever child was in the kitchen the bigger one. So to the writer of that like. Apologize to your Mama!
54 vb (My cat typed that getting off my lap.I don’t know what it means.Maybe it’s cat code.)
If you had asked me six months ago, I would have said I was dog person. Dogs do things. They run after anything that’s been propelled from it’s human companions hand. They follow commands from their owners. Roll over. Fetch. Help the blind. Guard military stuff. Capture crooks. Find drugs. They do all this so they can play with a squeaky toy. Dogs have no sense of worth. There are thousands of names for dogs, unless they’re bird hunting dogs. They they all have the same name. “No, over there. you Dummy!”
Cats are far too aloof for this kind of behavior. My cat will come when I call her, but at her leisure Other than being fastidious, she has no other attributes. Cats don’t do tricks. No guard duty, no picking up dead wet birds in a cold miserable marsh. They’ll play with a squeaky toy, but they ain’t gonna work all day for the honor. Most of the time, cats practice killing things. Like squeaky toys, shadows, lasers, etc. My cat is welcome because she is something I can talk to. If I talk to a dog, the critter’s butt, hindquarters and tail go into an uncontrolled high speed mayhem setting, knocking kids down, rapping adult’s shins, sweeping everything off the coffee table. His tongue comes out, slopping dog spit all over everything. A dog does not know the meaning of the word halitosis. They think you’re inviting them to become a human, on the couch, and they have a difficult time distinguishing between you and said couch.
But if you talk to a cat, she’ll look at you with the expression that says, “Do you really think I can understand any of the noises coming out of your mouth except the names for meals? I also understand ‘Get down’, something that stoopid dog doesn’t.” When I talk to my cat though, even with her superior attitude, it helps me to remember the mechanics of talking. When to move my jaw up and down, what to do with my tongue, you know, that kind of talky stuff. What I say to her doesn’t matter, but it seems to make more sense to me that I’m talking to a quiet adult cat, instead of a wiggily, bouncy, utterly immature canine..
Maybe that’s the difference. Cats grow up, Dogs don’t.