It's true. I am a cat person. To the left, living testament to my love of cats--Tom, in black, and Ed, the gray tabby. They're both Second Chance cats, meaning my kids chose them from a cat shelter. And then, of course, my kids promptly grew up and moved away, leaving their care to me.
Really, I don't mind. Not in the least. They say people are one or the other--a dog or a cat person. I guess for me, cats are it.
It's not that I don't like dogs. I do like them. After all, they're way smart and you can train them to bring you the paper and if you treat them well, they're likely to lavish you with slavish attention.
OTOH, the cat. Want attention? Wait for it. You'll get it when your cat is darn good and ready to bestow it. And as to training, well, provide a litter box and chances are your cat will use it. Cats actually do know the things they're not supposed to do. My cats know they are forbidden to perch on tables or kitchen counters. So they only do it when I'm not around. Sometimes they forget I'm in the house and one of them will get up on the kitchen table to gaze dreamily out the bow window into the backyard, tail twitching lazily at the sight of a squirrel or a bird. Should I happen to quietly sneak up on the culprit with my trusty spray bottle of water, well, you should see the look of shock and dismay on his face before I start yelling "No!" and chasing him around the house--priceless. Cats hate it when you mess with their dignity. And there's nothing so undignified as having to run away from a screaming human with a spray bottle.
I love how clean they are. My cats are constantly bathing. They bathe each other. Sometimes, they even forget I'm just a human and they try to bathe me. I love the rough scratch of their tongues and how velvety their fur is. I love the sound of their purring. I love the way they talk to me. Yes. Talk. Both of my cats are talkers. Ed's voice is pure--and sharply grating when he "captures" one of his small stuffed animals and carries it around the house, yowling. Tom's meow is rusty. Croaky, even. When he meows I want to grab him and hug him tight. If he'll let me.
After all, he is a cat. And a cat will inevitably do what a cat wants to do. I like that in a pet. I like that a lot.
So how 'bout you? A cat person? Or do you favor dogs? Or...?