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Do Dogs and Cats Think Differently? You Bet They Do...
From the Dog's Perspective
I knock myself out to please the leader of my pack. Day in and day out, I follow his lead; sit when I'm told to sit; eat when he lets me eat; sleep where he tells me to sleep; and go to the bathroom when he's ready to take me for a walk.
And what do I ask for in return? Just to be able to shower affection and attention on my Leader, and to receive praise (and a few belly rubs) for a job well done. But my house mate, the cat, has absolutely no responsibilities in our pack, and gets treated as if she's Top Dog. This is all very confusing ... Maybe the Cat is the true pack leader.
When the cat first arrived, I was overjoyed! The leader spends only a few hours every day with me. He spends the rest of the time with the other pack members. Hey, that's all right – I know my place in the hierarchy of things. They play with me too, and occasionally give me treats, so I'm not complaining.
Then one of the lesser members of the pack brings home this quiet little fur ball they called alternatively "The Cat" or "Whiskers." I thought the Leader was bringing me a toy, but whenever I approached, it reared back and made an ugly hissing noise. When I got real close, it batted me in the nose with its paw. Some toy!
It finally dawned on me that this was a new member of the pack. I wanted to make sure she knew her place in our little society, so I ate her food, drank her water and chased her around the house and up the bookcase. I was feeling pretty good about myself, so I sat there, barking my victory to her.
Guess what happened next, dear diary ...
I was reprimanded! The pack leader scolded me while I was barking at the cat. I made the connection between barking and the cat – this wasn't the first time I was scolded for barking too much. But it became clear that they weren't too thrilled with me chasing the cat all over the house either.
So I ate her food and then played in the sand. What fun! Then the pack leader stopped me. Another scolding. It slowly dawned me: my place is below the cat!! How did this happen? I don't know my weights and measures, but I'm obviously bigger, AND I have seniority.
I began to notice other oddities. The cat jumps on the couch at will. She ignores the higher pack members when they call for her, and approach them when they don't call. She only comes running when she hears the can opener. She jumps on laps and goes to sleep. The day I tried that, the boy yelped and I received a reprimand.
She walks around all high and mighty, leaping on furniture; I even caught her scratching the sofa. When she wants to do nature's business, she doesn't walk to the door and whine – she struts over to a sand-filled box.
Come to think of it, Diary, she hates most everything I like: constant attention; car rides (she screams like a banshee!); fetch; walking on a leash and belly rubs. I thought I was included on that list of dislikes, but one day when I was napping on my bed, she sidled up next to me, and began making a curious, yet not displeasing buzzing noise.
And sometimes she approaches me to play, although she doesn't know how to invite me politely. Maybe there's hope for us yet, Diary. All I have to do is know my place in the pack.
From The Cat’s Perspective …
Dear Diary:
He's at it again. The barking. That constant barking during my daily naps. I don't know what I dislike most about that dog – the barking, the foreign scent everywhere, his freakish need for approval and attention ... And the baffling desire to eat my food and play in my litter box.
Just what is he trying to prove?
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. I adopted a family recently. As I explored my new home I picked up an awfully un-catlike scent everywhere. Naturally, I set about changing the scent to my own to let would-be interlopers know this land has been claimed.
But every time I went on kitty patrol, I picked up that scent again. Well, after a few days, I discovered what the smell was. A dog! My family hid him like a dirty little secret, no doubt afraid of my reaction. I suppose they wanted to ease me by introducing the dog gradually.
I stumbled upon him by accident when the door was accidentally left open.
He came into my room and tried to greet me with that big snout of his, but I bravely batted him with my paw and ran away. The lumbering giant took after me, and I nimbly avoided him by climbing my tree.
He sat looking up at me, barking impotently, but I wasn't about to climb down. After awhile, I realized I was frustrating him because there was just no way he could make it up the tree. I showed him my disdain by yawning nonchalantly. Unfortunately, my food bowl and litter box were left behind. He retaliated against me by eating my food and desecrating my box.
I don't understand his behavior, Diary, or why my family puts up with him. He hardly sleeps a wink and always wants to play. Sure, I was like that as a kitten, but you have to grow up sometimes.
As the months passed, it became clear the dog just wasn't learning the art of subtlety. He doesn't understand there is a time and place for everything. When someone calls for me, why rush? What's so important I have to run? And the incessant begging. Where's his dignity? If you see something you want, just show a little more affection and purr a little louder to remind the family you're there.
Well, I decided to make the dog my pet project. I try to set an example of how to hunt and chase, the proper times and places to take a nap and that he has his food and I have mine. I think I'm beginning to rub off on him. The other day, I caught the dog taking a midday nap. I was so proud I couldn't resist joining him. Now, we have a routine. We take one nap a day together, eat, then he chases me until I get tired of the game and tease him by climbing out of his reach. I've even grown accustomed to his scent.
He still reverts to form on occasion, though. When he's excited, the dog just can't help jumping, running and, worst of all, that barking. Oh well, Diary. We'll just take it one day at a time ...
I knock myself out to please the leader of my pack. Day in and day out, I follow his lead; sit when I'm told to sit; eat when he lets me eat; sleep where he tells me to sleep; and go to the bathroom when he's ready to take me for a walk.
And what do I ask for in return? Just to be able to shower affection and attention on my Leader, and to receive praise (and a few belly rubs) for a job well done. But my house mate, the cat, has absolutely no responsibilities in our pack, and gets treated as if she's Top Dog. This is all very confusing ... Maybe the Cat is the true pack leader.
When the cat first arrived, I was overjoyed! The leader spends only a few hours every day with me. He spends the rest of the time with the other pack members. Hey, that's all right – I know my place in the hierarchy of things. They play with me too, and occasionally give me treats, so I'm not complaining.
Then one of the lesser members of the pack brings home this quiet little fur ball they called alternatively "The Cat" or "Whiskers." I thought the Leader was bringing me a toy, but whenever I approached, it reared back and made an ugly hissing noise. When I got real close, it batted me in the nose with its paw. Some toy!
It finally dawned on me that this was a new member of the pack. I wanted to make sure she knew her place in our little society, so I ate her food, drank her water and chased her around the house and up the bookcase. I was feeling pretty good about myself, so I sat there, barking my victory to her.
Guess what happened next, dear diary ...
I was reprimanded! The pack leader scolded me while I was barking at the cat. I made the connection between barking and the cat – this wasn't the first time I was scolded for barking too much. But it became clear that they weren't too thrilled with me chasing the cat all over the house either.
So I ate her food and then played in the sand. What fun! Then the pack leader stopped me. Another scolding. It slowly dawned me: my place is below the cat!! How did this happen? I don't know my weights and measures, but I'm obviously bigger, AND I have seniority.
I began to notice other oddities. The cat jumps on the couch at will. She ignores the higher pack members when they call for her, and approach them when they don't call. She only comes running when she hears the can opener. She jumps on laps and goes to sleep. The day I tried that, the boy yelped and I received a reprimand.
She walks around all high and mighty, leaping on furniture; I even caught her scratching the sofa. When she wants to do nature's business, she doesn't walk to the door and whine – she struts over to a sand-filled box.
Come to think of it, Diary, she hates most everything I like: constant attention; car rides (she screams like a banshee!); fetch; walking on a leash and belly rubs. I thought I was included on that list of dislikes, but one day when I was napping on my bed, she sidled up next to me, and began making a curious, yet not displeasing buzzing noise.
And sometimes she approaches me to play, although she doesn't know how to invite me politely. Maybe there's hope for us yet, Diary. All I have to do is know my place in the pack.
From The Cat’s Perspective …
Dear Diary:
He's at it again. The barking. That constant barking during my daily naps. I don't know what I dislike most about that dog – the barking, the foreign scent everywhere, his freakish need for approval and attention ... And the baffling desire to eat my food and play in my litter box.
Just what is he trying to prove?
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. I adopted a family recently. As I explored my new home I picked up an awfully un-catlike scent everywhere. Naturally, I set about changing the scent to my own to let would-be interlopers know this land has been claimed.
But every time I went on kitty patrol, I picked up that scent again. Well, after a few days, I discovered what the smell was. A dog! My family hid him like a dirty little secret, no doubt afraid of my reaction. I suppose they wanted to ease me by introducing the dog gradually.
I stumbled upon him by accident when the door was accidentally left open.
He came into my room and tried to greet me with that big snout of his, but I bravely batted him with my paw and ran away. The lumbering giant took after me, and I nimbly avoided him by climbing my tree.
He sat looking up at me, barking impotently, but I wasn't about to climb down. After awhile, I realized I was frustrating him because there was just no way he could make it up the tree. I showed him my disdain by yawning nonchalantly. Unfortunately, my food bowl and litter box were left behind. He retaliated against me by eating my food and desecrating my box.
I don't understand his behavior, Diary, or why my family puts up with him. He hardly sleeps a wink and always wants to play. Sure, I was like that as a kitten, but you have to grow up sometimes.
As the months passed, it became clear the dog just wasn't learning the art of subtlety. He doesn't understand there is a time and place for everything. When someone calls for me, why rush? What's so important I have to run? And the incessant begging. Where's his dignity? If you see something you want, just show a little more affection and purr a little louder to remind the family you're there.
Well, I decided to make the dog my pet project. I try to set an example of how to hunt and chase, the proper times and places to take a nap and that he has his food and I have mine. I think I'm beginning to rub off on him. The other day, I caught the dog taking a midday nap. I was so proud I couldn't resist joining him. Now, we have a routine. We take one nap a day together, eat, then he chases me until I get tired of the game and tease him by climbing out of his reach. I've even grown accustomed to his scent.
He still reverts to form on occasion, though. When he's excited, the dog just can't help jumping, running and, worst of all, that barking. Oh well, Diary. We'll just take it one day at a time ...
I enjoyed reading this.
No dogs here, but Sahib thinks he is a dog at times.... Waldo is just about the real deal when it comes to cats.
No dogs here, but Sahib thinks he is a dog at times.... Waldo is just about the real deal when it comes to cats.
I have a cat who models Speedos and has a crime lab and a beagle who thinks he is just ridiculous............
Oh OKay me aswell....
You want another clever, pretty, bright plays games,white calico young kitty, needs a home....swung by my house a few weeks ago when we were going to get a dog, I keep my door open so it invited itself in, being a soft mug I let it in and fed it, got it fixed and shots done last week...heres the crunchline,It never stops bringing in Lizards alive.. I love lizards but the kitty wont stop molesting theits driving me nuts.so I need a home in California for a gorgeus ,fixed Female ,smart as a tac , sorry guys its a kitty I am talking about not me, although my description is similar !!PM all offers, ( for the kitty I mean)
aaww, this was so good!!!! Loved it! Thank you :)
This is so funny! And so true. I have two cats and one dog. I may have to keep this one, lol. Thanks for sharing! :)
This gave me a good laugh...Thanks!!
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