Heroes & Philosophers

“So are you a dog or cat person?” she asked me.

“I’m not sure,” I pondered, “I’m kind of both.”

“No, no, no,” she shook her head and waved her wine glass, “you can’t be both! You have to choose one.”

Now, I’m not a fence-sitter. I tend to form opinions and stick to them until someone much wiser shows me the error of my thoughts. But to the whole dog/cat thing I hadn’t given much consideration.

I like dogs. They’re loyal and friendly. And I must admit they’re a lot more useful than cats – they herd sheep, lead the blind, and protect your house from burglerers.

But they’re also needy, attention-seeking, and dirty buggers when they eat their own poo. And after you pet a dog, your hand smells!

I like cats too. They’re clean and affectionate when they want food. They’re low-maintenance and generally look after themselves – no walkies or Frisbee-obsession.

But cats can make you feel like an idiot a lot of the time. Like when you make that “kssk-kssk” sound and call them in a baby voice and all they do is look at you and lick their bum, as though even that’s more interesting than getting tickles from you.

And there’s no cat in the world that would tear into a burning building to drag its owner out. They’ll just sit in a tree thinking, “Wow, lucky I got outta there in time,” and move in with the granny next door.

I had a cat who would watch the sunrise every morning – as though she was pondering the existence of a soul. We tend to just leave cats to their contemplations and ennui, trusting that they have more important matters to deliberate on.

But I think we often expect too much from our dogs. Whereas a cat can come and go as it pleases, sit wherever it wants, and not have to sleep outside in a cold kennel, dogs had better do as they’re told or face the consequences.

I always see people ‘affectionately’ thumping dogs across their sides as though they’re beating a dusty rug. These people always go, “He loves it!” thump-thump-thump.

I figure the only reason the dog doesn’t bite them is coz it’s shit-scared of the scolding and possible newspaper-whack it’d receive if it did! Not love or loyalty, just downright terror.

The same goes for the burning building scenario. Dog stares at the flames and black smoke and thinks, “Shit, I hope Dad’s okay,” with no intention of rushing into the inferno.

But then he imagines seeing Dad standing next to him, covered in ash, having fought and crawled through the blaze, with singed eyebrows and a rolled up Mail & Guardian in his hand, “And where the fuck were you?!?”

Whack-whack-whack!

So to the wine-waving, drunken dog-lover – I won’t discriminate. And here’s why:

If dogs are the courageous heroes of the domestic animal kingdom, cats are the philosophers.

I think in any universe, you need both.