In fairness, I have always been a cat person. We have two. Though we also have a dog.
The dog will sometimes look at me like she’s trying to make me happy. But not the cats. The cats have a way of keeping you in check, putting you back in your place.
Even as I write this, I have Carter on my lap, laying across my left arm, as though he is telling me, “You are able to write this because I am allowing it.”
“Oh, you had a rough day at the office? Doesn’t matter - where’s my food?”
“Oh, you got a nice raise? When are you gonna clean out my s**tbox?”
The cats don’t care how much I make or how my day was. As long as they get fed, and I get on my hands and knees to clean out that litter box.
The dog will sometimes want to play, and she’ll bring the ball directly to me, even if she’s playing with other people. The cat will stand in my face until I acknowledge him, and then he’ll walk away. “Dance, monkey, dance!”
I remember an episode of CSI, where somebody was eaten by their cats. When the cats show any kind of affection, I can’t help but wonder, “Are they just testing to see if I’m going to be brunch sometime soon???”
We can be gone for a weekend and the dog goes crazy when we get home. The cats: “Oh, you were gone? I coughed up a hairball, so get cleaning. And why haven’t you cleaned out my s**tbox??? We’ve talked about this!”
They keep you grounded. They won’t allow you to get a big head.
And if you ever do start to feel too good about yourself, they’ll stare you down as they cough up a hairball with a look of, “Well, we both know I’m not going to clean this up…and we both know I could have made it to the kitchen tile and didn’t have to stop on the carpet, but chose to.”
That is why I think everyone should have a cat. They will always remind you of who truly runs your house