Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a function. — Unknown
Thank God cats don’t have opposable thumbs.
Can you imagine it? Can you really? If you can get past visualizing the weird addition of a multi-directional digit on their cute little paws, then you can recognize the disaster such an extension would cause.
They could open the wet-food cans without my assistance. They could open the dry-food container without my assistance. There’s a good chance they’d teach themselves how to type, go on the internet, and look up ways to kill me and have it appear as an accident.
For cats, undoubtedly, are mischievous* little critters. But don’t just take my word for it; let me give you some examples…Which is still technically my word, but go along with it.
Case #1: There was one week when my mom went out of town and I was forced to clean the kitty litter myself.
I know. How dare she.
Expectedly, I forgot to clean it the first two days. However, come the third, I open the basement door to go down to my room, and there, sitting on a step at the bottom, is my cat, her head cocked back and looking up at me.
As soon as we make eye contact, she stands up and indignantly walks away. On the step behind her, she had left what should have been deposited in the kitty litter.
Case #2: Any time that food is made, whether my cats are completely asleep or downstairs in the farthest back room, they will suddenly appear beside you, looking up with their big black eyes, reminding you of what great friends you are by rubbing their shedding fur all over your legs.
And when you sit down to eat, they will circle you like the two creepy guys at a party who have found the same attractive girl.
I, however, am an Alpha male (and a true American, and fully furnished with lustrous chest hair) so the cats stay away from me during mealtime. But my dad, who’s quite the softie, has to have a squirt bottle with him to keep them at bay.
But one time, before I had established the fear of Jake in them, I was eating lunch on the sofa, when of the cats kept reaching her paws up on to my leg. And unbeknownst to me, while I kept batting this one away, the other had snuck up on me from the opposite side.
Suddenly, she pounced at the fork in my hand, knocking it loose and quickly working to loose the chunk of meat. Before I could retrieve the food, the cat dashed off with it, her sister running right behind her.
The bastards planned it!
Literally, they’re bastards. We rescued them from the humane society.
However, even in their most devious moments, it’s hard to stay mad at a furry ball that jumps on your lap and purrs affectionately.
Nonetheless, I am certainly a dog person.
*I bet you didn’t know that “mischievous” is pronounced “MISS-chiv-us” not “miss-CHEE-vee-us”).