I hate cats.
There, I said it. I may be crowned inhumane, unsympathetic, a monster, fiend, devil and many other unkind words too inappropriate to write. Still, the reality is that I would sooner throw a cat than own one. It’s hard to name only a few reasons why I dislike this four-legged creature because the list is as long as time, and like a snowball, once I start complaining, I tend to not stop.
I hate how non-reciprocating cats are. You give them everything and at the most you’ll get a dead bird or rodent on your front porch. I have been told that this is an expression of love. Not to me. Death as a reward is not a relationship I want to be a part of. I am aware you don’t have to walk a cat, and it has its own litter box, but you need to clean it, empty the litter box, give it attention and feed it. The return for your slave labor is nothing but a death glance that screams daggers while your pet lies in the sunlight at the opposite end of the room.
Dogs lick, fetch and run. Cats sit. They sleep. They stare. Sloths may be the laziest animals on earth, but as Garfield has proven, cats give them a good run for their money. Then again, run may not be the best term.
I hate their claws. I cannot tell you how many times I have been enjoying my delicious Del Taco, watching television, when suddenly a crazed, psycho cat springs up, slashes me across the face, runs away and returns purring, expecting my love and attention. It think it is for this specific reason that we use the expression, “cat got your tongue?” Cats want to inflict pain. They are abusive. They are torturous. They remind me of my last girlfriend, but that is an entirely different topic for another time.
I hate their fur. Sure dogs shed, but for whatever reason, cat hair was specifically designed to get in the air, stuff your nose and cause a never-ending sneezing fit. Still they just sit there. Mocking me with their blank stare. Always mocking.
Ron Weasley was completely justified in his hatred of Crookshanks. I don’t care if Scabbers (Wormtail) was responsible for Harry’s death. I don’t care if Crookshanks knew the truth behind his disguise. A wrong doesn’t make a right. Crookshanks was evil. Ron knew it. Cats are evil. I know it.
I think it’s important we act now. Like apes overtook humans, so too will cats usurp power and control if we don’t act now. While I think eating them would be a modest proposal, it is barbaric and will result in me being single for eternity.
I suggest we ignore them. Don’t be fooled by purrs and stares. Stay resolute my fellow humans. We must resist their power. We must stay strong. We must join with the dogs and fight back.
I just let the cat right out of the bag.