Dogs Will Work for Nazis During the night, I often wake just enough to feel the gentle pressure of Little Neal, one of my cats, snuggling his back against my calves, my thighs, or my butt. Its an extremely comforting feeling. It tells me that everything in my house is as it should be, peaceful and calm. Were there a door ajar, a strange cat prowling, or an intruder, every cat in the house would be investigating. They would all be sniffing, peering and craning to see what was going on. But, if my little grey Burmese is snuggling against me, everything is fine. The subtle pressure of his body is a great compliment. This extraordinary, still wild creature has chosen me to lay down with. A cat will not lay down with just anybody. A cats love and trust is earned and earned again every day. A cat will not easily allow himself to be taken for granted. "But, a cat wont shake hands, or sit up." Remarked my doctor the other day during a telephone conversation. "Well of course not." I thought, but didnt bother saying. I didnt bother saying it because it was preposterous on its face, the idea of a cat performing cheap tricks for a morsel of food. No, youll never see a self respecting cat wearing a jesters collar, performing for the entertainment of inferior beings who for some reason are amused by such foolishness. But, then again, you will never see a cat on a leash, snapping at the heels of wretched Jews in box cars. Dogs will work for Nazis. Cats will not. Cats have never been the pet of choice for people who find themselves drawn to subservience and obedience. Cats have a kind of stiff-necked pride that I think appeals more to women than to men. Men are, as a general rule, team players, ruled by the dominance hierarchy. Women are far more subversive, as Western civilization has recognized for eons. Women are very much like cats. They will, in the end, generally follow their own internal dictates and would rather starve themselves than compromise their ideals. Women, like cats, are survivors. Smaller and lighter than their competitors, they have learned to run and fight only when cornered. Once cornered, however, they come out with teeth and nails flashing in a rush of fury that can scare the be-Jesus out of the bravest man. Needless to say, as a woman, I live my life surrounded by cats and with a man who admires them almost as much as I do. I find this an admirable quality. My husband was, in fact, accepted into the family by one of my cats who climbed up on his chest before I had even decided to admit him into the fold. But, I get ahead of myself. That is a story for later. |
