Preferring cats over dogs is kind of like standing in the middle of a crowded street screaming that you have an undying passion for root canals and booster shots. Others retaliate with looks of horror and disgust or try to combat your declaration with eye-rolls or by giving you the card of a recommended therapist. Okay, we get it — dogs are man’s best friend. But what if I don’t want a best friend?
Cats are like the popular, bad boy from a stereotypical high school' 80s movie. They don’t care about you, or anything else for that matter. They’re vain, smart, and know that they’re better than whomever they come across. They still remain confident and carry around an aloof attitude despite most people’s aversion to them — which I find inspiring. When’s the last time your dog persuaded you to ignore the haters and, excuse the Taylor reference, “shake it off?”
People say that cats aren’t affectionate because they lack the need to cover you in saliva and follow you around like a puppy dog (literally) all day. They don’t look at you with those eyes that say “you’re my world and you can’t do anything wrong,” they give you more of an “you’re adequate” expression, which alleviates the pressure of being someone’s world. I may be a lot of things, but a role model is not one of them. Cats love you from afar—like an endearing, harmless stalker. Not to mention I don’t have to worry about house guests being attacked because my safety is the least of my cat’s concerns. (That, and my overall happiness).
You know how being “mean” or making fun of person, usually signifies a close friendship with someone that goes beyond acquaintances? Well, that’s the type of relationship your cat has with you. They’re always mentally flipping you the bird, but in a way that says, “I’m just kidding around.” At least that’s what I tell myself.
Their personality aside, cats are as comfy and stress relieving as an old sweatsuit. After a stressful day of work the last thing I want is an animal jumping on me and begging for my attention. I want someone to give me peace and quiet so I can catch up on social media for the day. That’s what cats do. They’re soft, and purr as they lie on your lap lifeless; like a really soft, expensive throw.
Not to mention, their value for personal hygiene is close to my own. They’re like adorable little germaphobes. You won’t find their “business” on a now ruined rug in the middle of your living room, nor will you smell their consistent “wet dog” smell from a mile away. They clean themselves, use a litter box, will eat a can of Fancy Feast or a lizard they catch themselves, and smell so neutral it makes you wonder for a second if your nasal passageway could be blocked.
Cats are the most low maintenance pet one can have, except for maybe a goldfish. For someone like me, who is as high maintenance as they come, having a pet that doesn’t add to the already stressful job of caring for myself and keeping my own emotions in check, is a breath of fresh air. Dogs are like raising a child. You have to potty train them, get up with them at all hours of the night, and worry about what kind of food they’re eating. I would like to delay my motherly instincts for as long as I possibly can.
So call me crazy, send me threatening letters, and don’t like my cat pictures on Instagram in protest all you want — but I’m finally coming clean. I like cats ... (better than dogs).
Cats aren’t life-long companions or parts of the family. They’re what they’re supposed to be. Pets.
