My Flagrant Affair With The Enemy
I've always been more of a cat person, because dogs are too needy. They have to be walked, you have to pick up their crap in public, and they cry. I prefer cats with their independence, habit of crapping in litterboxes, and emotional aloofness. Of course, these are just stereotypes. My cat, Onion, paws me for attention, cries when he's being ignored, and snuffles his face into mine to get me up in the morning. Cat or dog, I do not find this annoying behaviour at all endearing. I regularly threaten to jamb a knitting needle into his eyeball.
It is rare that I meet a dog, though, that inspires that face-eating how-freaking-awesome-are-you feeling in my gut, but I would be lying if I told you that pet theft didn't cross my mind when I met my friend Kat's dog Jack. Seeing as he is well-loved and fed, though, not to mention the fact that I live in an apartment with three cats, I will just have to content myself with the occasional visit.
Just look at this gorgeous face. She's what Tyra Banks would call fierce:
I wanted to chew on her nose as though it were bubblegum:
I think that it's her fox-like independence that makes her such a rib-nibbler for me. I can totally envision her murdering rabbits in the bush and bringing back some lovely, bloody snacks for me. Mmm, bunny legs.
My cats, though, were less than impressed with my flagrant affair with another species. When I got home, my pantlegs got a good going over, after which the cats threw a few cold stares at me for even trying to scratch them behind their ears. According to them, I am a dirty, dirty whore for the enemy, and how dare I.
I do dare, though. With those eyes, I'd be a whore for that enemy any time.