Houdini in Fur

I believe that God (Or whatever you call the creation deity or theory, you believe in.) put domesticated animals on this planet in order to keep us humans from thinking we are all such hot shit humble.

We see these wee creatures and think “There’s no way they’ll survive without my love and care to protect them. And in return they’ll worship me and give me unconditional love.” Or something to that effect. I know that is how I would up with my furry menagerie.

Now, as you can see, I have plenty of evidence at hand, and under foot, to base my “research” on, in order to support the theory that we aren’t as smart as we think we are.

As I stated, it begins with humans and our egotistical thought that these animals couldn’t survive without us. Well, I have a little secret for you; They managed to survive without us for eons. No, really! We all used to live outside, under the stars. Then we discovered caves and decided that being dry in the rainy season was a plus. Then we discovered empty caves and found that staying dry while not getting eaten by the cave’s occupant, was far better!

Then we started choosing certain animals that we liked (And didn’t eat us.) and began bringing them into the caves with us. Then we had to discover doors, because the ungrateful little bastards kept going back to their own homes!

Which brings us, more or less, to the present. Dogs seem to have taken to the idea of domestication a little better than cats. (I blame the Egyptians and their cat worship phase. Spoiled them for the rest of time.) But even dogs try to escape, all animals do. Or, failing escape, they try to make us wish they would leave. Well, at least three out of my four do. I don’t think I even need to point to the extreme example of Sigfried and Roy to make this point.

It has even gotten worse recently. I live in Tempe, AZ, where the temperature has been in the upper 70’s and we are in the midst of a record long dry spell. I have been keeping the windows open because it has been so nice at night. I came home the other night to see a cat sitting on my doorstep. As I came closer, I thought to myself, “That cat looks very much like Loki.” And with good reason, it was the furry little booger! So he sees me coming and starts meowing pitifully and bumping the door with his head. It turns out he had knocked the screen loose and had escaped. As soon as I opened the door, he streaked inside and disappeared under the bed. 10 minutes later he is has come outside again to check things out. Which means that now I can’t leave the door open when I takes the dogs out.

So, I now have a routine every time I come home: First, I walk the dogs. Second I make sure that everyone has fresh food and water so that I can distract them long enough that I can eat in peace. Then I walk the apartment to see what has been knocked over, trodden upon, chewed on, peed on, disturbed, molested or, on rare occasions, puked on. The most common thing muttered during this circuit is “Goddam cats!” To which Tadji just looks at me as if to say, “Hey, none of these other freeloaders was my idea, okay? That was all you.”

See, they try to lull you into a false sense of peace before the next attempt by looking really cute, and by curling up next to you, or on you, to sleep. They are just waiting for you to drop your guard so they can strike! I am sure they plot all day while I am gone. There may be a poltergeist in cahoots with them. I am still trying to prove that, but I am convinced that they must have some sort of supernatural assistance. They have no opposable thumbs and they can’t get everywhere they have gotten things from.

So, in this struggle of man against nature, I accept that some higher power is reminding me that I am not so high up the food chain that I can’t be tripped up (Sometimes literally.) by these supposed “domestic creatures.”

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go put the dogs out. I’m still not sure where the cats even got that tiny flamethrower.

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Random Fact: “There is no rule 6.”