I hate cats

Well, hate is a strong word but it makes for a snappier title then “I strongly dislike cats”, but thats how I feel, I strongly dislike cats. 

Every cat owners house smells the same, like loneliness and ammonia. Like an Arizona frat house, no matter how you mask the smell, it always permeates. Cat owners always say the same thing about their feline inhabitant, “he’s not like a cat at all, he thinks he’s a dog!” No he doesn’t. He knows he’s a cat... you just secretly know somewhere in your subconscious, dogs are better. 

Cats also apparently make you crazy.  Or rather, cat butts carry a parasite that can cause personality changes in humans. Have you heard about this? It’s actually wildly interesting to read about, so I will link articles for further investigation here and here. But basically toxoplasmosis is a parasitic disease passed to humans from cat doodoo💩.  People get it from gardening, unwashed produce or litter boxes and the parasite can apparently change your personality. It leads to risk taking behaviors, emboldenedness and a loss of empathy over time. They discovered a lot of high powered CEOS have the parasite as well as individuals who die in motorcycle crashes. So the parasite causes a person to be a good fatcat executive but a bad cyclists. It’s cat Doodoo Voodoo, if you will. Its so interesting that Joe rogan and Macaulay Culkin talk about it for 20 minutes in a very surreal podcast (is it me or do child stars just look weird as adults?) I will link here. 

More about my history with cats...

I lived at a yoga ashram for a few months on an island in the Caribbean (story for another time) and on the island there were semi-wild cats. Which is to say, they were a domestic breed of cats brought to the island for whatever reason, but they lived outdoors, doing basically as they pleased. The people at the ashram gave them plenty of food, water and attention but essentially they were wild. I noticed that they frequently hunted the island birds. I wondered why. They get fed every day, why kill the birds? After watching them a few weeks I realized they never ate them. These sick bastards hunted them, played with them, toyed with their poor little bird bodies and eventually abandoned them someplace. Like little serial killers, they killed because they wanted to, for fun, or sport or whatever. That’s their horrible nature, it’s who they are. Sick little fuckers.

If you feed dogs, they don’t still hunt, they just come back for more food. Stray dogs, even wild in packs don’t hunt unless they’re hungry. They eat trash before going in search of some poor animal to maim. They eat trash no matter what, come to think of it. I have to lock up my trash so my dog doesn’t eat coffee grounds again. Man was that a terrible day! She shat 5 times and ran sprints through the apartment. I bet she did a 9 minute mile that day for sure. Its too bad she doesn’t have thumbs or she could have used some of that energy to shampoo the freakin carpets! 

But back to how cats are monsters...

Never mind how cute they are, at the end of the day, a killer predators lurks beneath those tufts of fur. They are tiny lions. I firmly believe the only thing preventing them from killing all the local wildlife is their modest size. Even indoor cats are cold blooded killers at heart. Let a mouse or a fly come in their path and you’ll see, they’re all predator. 

Don’t believe me? I Invite you to do a thought experiment with me. Imagine you have one cat and one dog, both adults. Lets say it’s a little black tabby cat and a golden retriever. One day you wake up and you are 2 inches tall, never mind the science of how you got to be that size, you are home alone, just tiny you and your pets. Think about which one of your animals would likely eat you once they found you. The cat. Almost certainly the cat. The dog would probably curiously sniff you, recognize your scent, and bring you a ball. Dogs can be dumb, but they’re loyal. Cats are independent drag queens, loyal to no one. They might be trapped in your house, but they don’t live with you... you live with them. Make no mistake, if you were smaller, they’d eat the shit out of you. So I think it’s not too big a stretch to say that dogs are the morally superior animal and ultimately superior pet. Case closed, I rest my case. 

I will end my cat bashing blog post with a fun anecdote so you don’t think I’m actually taking myself seriously here. I don’t want anyone to walk away thinking I’m ever mean to cats or that any of this is more then the dumb musings of a crazy person. I think about stupid shit, and then I write about it, that’s all this is. Eventually I want to mold this dumb shit into a comedy bit. So I’m blog-style writing out all my mind-garbage on the topic to help me sort out the funniest aspects of cat dislike-itude and someday, if I’m real lucky, I might get a good joke or two out of it. So without further doodoo...

Story time...

I do a lot of yoga so, as you might imagine,  I have a lot of REAL hippy dippy friends. Not sort-of hippies with bank accounts and cars but vegan dreadlock hippies, with names like Sequoia and River,  who’s handkerchief pants always smell like a head shop. Awhile back, one of these strangely-named friends invited me over for a spirit animal ceremony. Lets call her Moonshine, because it’s hilarious. Now, for those of you who don’t know what a spirit animal ceremony is, (i.e. everyone), it’s where you light a bunch of incense and chant a bunch of nonsense as a hippy dressed like a wizard finds out what your spirit animal is by waving arms over you like a lunatic. Moonshine did this to me, or at me, however you want to imagine it, and after some meditation came to the conclusion that my spirit animal is some kind of solitary feline, one that does not live or hunt in a pack, like a snow lepord. I sort of laughed and said, “ug, no way... I don’t even like cats!” without a moments pause she said, “... what a cat-like thing to say...” and smiled an evil knowing smile. Ya got me, you hippy bitch! You got me. 

So there you have it, the ethereal wisdom of Moonshine and her band of patchouli gypsies. 

I don’t like cats because I am a goddamn cat and there isn’t room for more cats in my territory, it explains everything. I can rest easy now. Perhaps now I’ll find a little patch of sun and lick my lady-bits to hearts content before barfing in some unsuspecting shmuck’s shoe.