While waiting for Westlaw to come back online so I can do my much-delayed law review project (I’d go to LexisNexis, but our Westlaw rep is a temptress with those prize points she offers…damn you, you tanorexic siren offering up your cappuccino machines in exchange for my legal research loyalty!), my kitty Franklin wandered into my office. As usual, he got up on his hind legs and tapped me three times with his paw, indicating that I should stop whatever I’m doing and scratch him immediately. I turned to him, and to my surprise, he hopped up on my lap. He never does that. I was soon disappointed to learn that this was not a father’s day show of affection. He proceeded to hop from my lap to the desktop, using my testicles as a springboard, and started typing. Apparently he is pissed off about all of my law school friends who are adopting dogs and posting their puppy pictures on Facebook. Franklin is generally pissed about Facebook anyway, but this dog trend really has him riled up, and he's determined to convince my friend Ms. Watson to change her adoption plans. The following is what he had to say, typed at 75 w.p.m. with full ALWD-format citations (which I deleted because no one actually uses ALWD…I won’t have people thinking my pet doesn’t know how to properly cite legal authority). I apologize in advance for his potty mouth.
“I have something to say to all of you people on this Interweb thing with your puppy fever. Eff you!
Why you people think puppies are so damned special is beyond me. I don’t understand why people with a lot of dogs are animal lovers, but a nice cat lady gets called crazy by her condo board as they screw her over. The fact is, puppies have no dignity. They piss in the floor and don’t even have the decency to cover it up. They beg for leftover food instead of demanding their own plate. They come to you when called, like they’re Naomi Campbell’s assistant trying to avoid a beatdown. That’s pathetic.
I am over each and every one of you. Not that I wasn’t over you already, mind you, but all this puppy talk is the last straw. Ms. Watson, my person says you are reasonable, so I will assume you are despite his frequent bad judgment. Here are five reasons for you to consider as to why cats are far superior to dogs.
1. You won’t get a sunburn because we will never ask to be walked in the park. Granted, that means won’t get you laid with some other dog walker, but having seen people sex, I think it is safe to say that everyone involved is happier sitting quietly on the couch watching television and drinking alone.
2. Cats will not chew up your shoe collection. This is because all cats are gay, and gays have inherent respect for shoes. We will poop in your Crocs, but you and I both know you have that coming.
3. A common cat complaint is that we have a tendency to rub against you, covering you in our fur when you are dressed up and about to leave the house. Please understand, we don’t do this to be annoying. We do it because what you’re wearing is terrible. It is for your own good. Change your outfit…you’ll thank us for it when the rest of your office isn’t calling you a dirty road whore behind your back.
4. Yes, we are aloof. Dogs are indeed friendlier than cats. You know who else is friendly? George W. Bush. He is also dumber than a tube sock full of marbles. Friendly is highly overrated.
5. You are a lazy s.o.b. We respect that. I personally spend 23.25 hours per day sleeping, and I’m proud of it. You want to sleep in? Fine by me. I won’t judge you, and what’s more, I won’t wake you up yapping to be fed or let out of the house. In fact, I won’t ever even ask to be let out of the house. Outside is dirty, hot, and frankly only fit for a dog.
Ms. Watson, clearly you should get a cat instead of joining all of these pod people with their cutesy profile pictures starring a smelly pathetic canine. Cats rule. That is all. And now if you will excuse me, it is time for my nap. Besides, my person tends to get all twitchy if he’s away from his computer gossip and pornography for more than a few minutes, and he is already getting on my last good nerve.