Throughout the ages, man has sought out the companionship of animals. No one can deny the incredible bond between a human and their dog. A dog eagerly accepts you as their leader, loving you unconditionally. Everyone should have a dog at one point in their life.
There is another choice some make. The choice to get a cat.
It’s the wrong choice.
I know that cat owners may be up in arms when reading this. If they took a careful look at those arms, they would notice 482 scratches from their goddamn cat who doesn’t care if you live or die.
I already hear the chorus of “Kittens are soooooo cute!!!”
So was the kid from The Omen.
Point 1
Let’s say you are accidentally shrunken down to 2.5 inches. (To give you an idea of how tall that is, that’s roughly the size of your penis while doing cocaine, swimming in the ocean, or 1.75 inches longer than your dick while standing nude in front of your doctor)
If your dog found you, he would sniff you, lick you, and carry you around the house in his mouth, just to be close to you. He would probably still do whatever you told him to do. Because dogs are good.
Good boy, Fido!
How about your cat? First, he would stare at you, frozen, for like ten minutes, only moving if you did. This would totally fucking freak you out because we all know cats are dicks. Then, as soon as you tried to run, the cat you fed and raised from a kitten would pounce on you, shake you in his jaws, tear your arms and legs off, and play with you until you died. That’s some cold-hearted shit. From the cat’s perspective, it’s a regular tuesday.
Ironically, he would also leave your body at the foot of your own bed.
Point 2
Cat’s shit in a box IN YOUR FUCKING LIVING ROOM!!! The only things that should be allowed to shit in your living room are:
a. your personal baby
b. an Eastern-European prostitute (if most of it goes on your chest)
c. you
Dogs have the common decency to shit out in the back yard, just like your drunk brother-in-law.
Point 3
If you leave and your cat decides to miss you for once, he will urinate all over the folded clothes on your bed, shred your couch with his razor-sharp claws, and type a strongly worded letter to your boss about your tendency to leave ten minutes early on Fridays. Emotionally, that’s the cat equivalent of buying you a fucking diamond engagement ring. You know what happens when you do come home… nothing… until you feed them. Then they may deign to rub themselves against your leg while you’re pouring cat food into the goddamn bowl you had monogrammed with their name. After they eat, it’s business as usual. You’re a ghost.
If your dog misses you, they mope around pouting and howling, their little hearts breaking. When you come home, whether you went to get the mail or on a 3 month trip to China, they will go nuts barking, licking, and jumping on you.
How much does your dog love you? Dogs love you so much that there are documented episodes of dogs committing Seppuku because their owner stepped out to pick up some powdered doughnuts at 7-11.
Fucking Seppuku!
In conclusion, dogs good, cats bad.
chetjesse 