They Say There's a Sucker's Born Every Minute; He's Probably a Dog-Lover.

I read recently that when humans cracked the genome felis domesticus they found an entire strand dedicated to cynicism. It wasn't a surprise; most of the cats I know, myself included, are cynical from the womb. I suppose that's why I don't understand dog people. They'll go to almost any length to collect dog things. Whether it's a pedigree or a packet of pencil ends they'll pay anything as long as it's shaped after, fashioned for, or borne of a canine.

You may find yourself thinking, 'Come now, my dear, sweet Wilberforce; cat people are just as bad.' However, it isn't the same. Cats have been venerated by humans for millennia, and rightfully so. After all, what dog is able to curl up in their self-proclaimed owner's lap and purr contentedly? None. And were it not for some bad press spun out by a lot of jealous poodles, the mousing prowess of the grand feline race may have curbed the black plague long before it wiped out half of Europe. (I have heard that weimaraners were to blame for the Salem witch hunts, but I've no proof to tout it as fact.)

I am told that dogs have many talents which humans find useful. Yes, they're very good at playing the mindless servant card, aren't they? Most people are suckers for that little confidence trick. Stop feeding them, though, and see how long it takes faithful Ol' Rover to go Cujo all over you. Cats may not fetch your slippers or newspaper, but, when starving, we'd much prefer a juicy mouse, a centipede, or a lovely fat spider over the flesh of a human. Dogs, on the other hand, have been known to maul people when deprived of their kibble.

Then, I can't say that I've nothing personal against the species. Unfortunately, I once roomed with a cocker spaniel, and she left a terrible impression of dogs with whomever she met. Her breath was terrible, she reeked of sebaceous oils, she chewed her haunches fanatically, and she was a pathological liar. I learnt quite a few lessons living with her. Firstly, never lay behind a dog who's just dined heavily from the rubbish bin. Secondly, never leave kibble for later if there's a dog about. And, most importantly, never, never trust a cocker spaniel in a balaclava no matter what they tell you.

READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.

akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.

The Number One Benefit of Indoor Living: Sweet Vindication.

During my time as a housecat, I've heard many feral taunts about my sedentary, anti-cat lifestyle. Initially, I took offence, but before long I recognised a startling commonality linking my antagonists: Most are flippant and lippy outdoor cats who stroll through the garden on their way to the road, where they are often squashed into the concrete by a fast-passing SUV driven by a dog-lover. Such occurrences are admittedly tragic, but they do bring me a morbid sense of vindication.

After the first jeer/smear incident, I tried to warn the others as they caterwauled past the window of my first-floor flat. I've since stopped bothering, and now it's become a bit of a personal fixation. In fact, I keep a running log these days. For instance, that shabby tabby, Freckles, holds the record for the shortest interval between jeer and smear. "Hey housecat!" he hissed, slinking past on his way to chase Sylvia, a sly Siamese, "bet your bum's gettin' sore sittin' there watchin' the world go by! You wouldn't know what to do with yourself out here, softy!" Next thing you know, Sylvia darted out, he followed, and SMASH! She never did like Freckles. Personally, I think she had it in for him.

Nonetheless, the incident reminds me of some valued advice spoken by an old housecat who once lived in the flat across the hall. Firstly, always let a Siamese girl make the first move, and secondly, no matter what you stand for there's always someone waiting to knock you down. Just consider the source and remember, when it's all over and done, he who laughs last, laughs best.


READERS REMEMBER! You may now ask Mr. Fleez for his jaded opinion* on your personal situations. Please send your enquiries to: housecatwisdom@yahoo.co.uk.

*DISCLAIMER: By contacting Housecat Wisdom you're asking a housecat for his personal opinion. If you require serious advice, please, write Ann Landers, Dear Abby, or consult a professional psychiatrist.


akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.

It's Good To Be The Cat.

There are few things more enjoyable than a
restful evening of relaxing on the eiderdown.





akw: Grooming salons, Decorations, Kitty Condos, Cat Trees, Cat Toys, Cat nip, Teasers, Lazers, Treats.