The ultimate question: Are cats better than dogs?

Isn't it funny how we feel the need to describe someone as a "cat person" or a "dog person" when introductions are made? I happily consider myself a "multi-species person," although I admit to favoring cats (apologies to my Scottie, whom I love dearly!)

Cats and dogs have very different skill sets when it comes to fitting into a family. Let's add up the plusses and minuses to see which one makes the better pet...

* Cats are quiet (+1) * Dogs, while loud, make great low-cost home security systems (+1) * Cats are independent (+1) * Dogs are in-your-face creatures (-1) * Cats only come to you when they want something (-1) * Dogs are always glad to see you come home (+1) * Cats are not good travelers (-1) * Dogs love to go for rides and walks on the beach (+1) * Indoor cats require a litter box (-1) * Dogs require "yard duty" (-1) * Cats jump on food prep areas (-1) * Dogs can't reach those areas (+1) * Cats can be left for hours and even overnight on occasion without worry. (+2) * Dogs can't be left alone for long stretches and need to be boarded at times (-2) * Cats eat much less than dogs (+1) * Dogs are less finicky when it comes to food (+1)

Well, it's a tie and I'm still confused. Both animals offer unconditional love and companionship so personal preference is the way to go. Oftentimes you won't even get to choose as the pet picks you.

For some odd reason, dogs are considered more adoptable than cats, although there are more felines in homes in the U.S. than canines, according to the Humane Society of the United States This is probably due to the fact that 52 percent of cat owners have more than one cat, while only 28 percent of dog owners have more than one dog. (Another "plus" here for cats?)

Whatever you decide to bring into your own home as a family member, please consider your lifestyle and the requirements of the pet. We, of course, encourage you to consider a cat or two as 10 percent more of them are euthanized each year than dogs in the shelters, according to the ASPCA.

Kitten season is beginning and soon there will be scores to choose from. Please help us stem the tide of overpopulation by having your pets spayed and neutered this month. And call us if there are free-roaming feral cats in your neighborhood so we can TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return) them before they breed.

Marci Kladnik is a board member of Catalyst for Cats, a Santa Barbara County nonprofit organization dedicated to the welfare of feral cats. For more information, call 685-1563 or visit www.catalystforcats.org.

Same here. My wife just....well, we just got adopted by a kitten from our neighbor's new litter, and we're trying to wean our Bumpus Hounds away from making like it's a chew toy. Which is hard, because they got ahold of a couple from the previous litter that strayed over the fence, and discovered that they taste really good. Nothing like waking up in the morning, looking out the window, and seeing your dogs tossing a dead cat in the air while you're brewing the coffee.

"But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: for men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away, for his name is Obama."

The Dog’s Diary

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Dinner! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

The Cat’s Diary

Day 983 of My Captivity

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now ...

“Black cats are very affectionate...”

Funny you should say that!

We have our two still pretty new kitties who were both pretty scaredy when we got them.

After the loss of our beloved Holly we just couldn’t deal with the empty house so we decided to go get more kittys.

Since we had let Holly go out and it led tragically to her demise (hit by a car oy veh) we decided to get 2 so they could keep each other company INSIDE.

Hubby and I independently had the thought we wanted a gray cat, so we went in search of a gray female cat with a sister of any color as part of the bargain.

And we found 2 sweeties - one gray and one almost totally black, just a faint white “diaper”.

Lola (the gray) and Nikita (the black) were so shy I posted a vanity thread about them and got some good advice (thanks you guys!)

It’s a few months later and Niki is our little lovey, she gets moody but she’ll almost always let you pick her up, sit in your lap, sleeps in the bed, etc.

Lola (who is gorgeous, she has the sweetest movie star face, she’s like the Clara Bow of cats - see that’s how old I am!) is still sooooo scaredy. I’ve managed to pick her up about twice in three months.

Someone told hubby the other day that gray cats can be stand-off-ish like that.

So, I don’t know and I’m rambling on. But I’ve always liked black cats (and I’ve heard people do shy away from adopting them), it’s a root for the (excuse the expression) underdog thing maybe.

We love our two babies and they are getting quite comfortable with us.

I’m definitely a cat person, but I think hubby is still more of a dog person. Someday I hope to be able to get him a canine companion.

As a teenager (16 or so), I was given, by a friend, a pair of kittens barely old enough to ween, (but his parents made him get rid of them), that I had for a few years. The one ran away promptly after a few months (My dad was the kind of guy who left the doors open on nice mornings and didn’t care if the cat stayed or went, lol), so thereafter I just had the one, who had been named “Pablo.”

I sometimes took Pablo for rides, which he hated, but in general took good care of him all around. I was in College at the time (I went very early), but still living at home, and had a lot of work to do everyday, and I held him while doing schoolwork and let him stay with me all of the time. When he was just a small kitten, I would keep him on the bed when I took naps (so as to not let him escape like his sister), and we became pretty close. I’m a stomach sleeper, and he would often sleep on top of the blanket between my calves, I guess because it was safe. But the funny thing is that I would sometimes roll over and trap him in the blanket without knowing. Sometimes I would wake up because he’d cry out. After a while I think he got used to it, thought because he never yowled anymore.

He was the kind of cat that if you talked to him, he’d “talk” back. We had a pretty good understanding of each other, even if we couldn’t really talk. In my bedroom I had a sliding glass door that partitioned my room from the rest of the house. He learned to open it if he got shut out, which was a feat of strength! If that door was locked, he managed to learn to open the fireplace hatch in my fireplace (man was that a scary day!, I thought something was going to crawl out of the chimney and eat me, lol).

In the mornings, he would walk out with me to the car, and sit down next to the drivers side door, until I pulled away, and then go back to the house (as my dad left the doors open). At night if the door wasn’t open and he heard my car coming (he could hear it from about 2 blocks away, as we lived in a less densly populated area) he would panic and meow to get someone to open the door. But he eventually learned to jump into the fireplace in my room and ram the ashe door, and get out if he couldn’t get out another way. Then he’d run out to my parking spot and sit right next to where the front drivers door would be at its final position, and when I stepped out, he’d meow and meow.

Pablo was the best cat I ever had. Unfortunately, the neighbor, two plots down, would feed feral cats, who in turn killed the chickens of the neighbor between us. So the neighbor with the chickens took to baiting and poisoning all cats he could find. I moved out on my own just before turning 18, but Pablo stayed at home. Pablo was probably poisoned several times (he got sick off and on) before he finally succumbed (he was a large, strong, healthy cat). Dad thought he might have eaten a sickly bird or something a time or two, as he had always recovered, but oneday he found him on the doorstep. Dad later found out from the neighbor that it was the poison.

I’m not sure I’ll ever have a pet that can come close to being as great as that cat was, but I do know this, God loves us, and that’s why he gave us dominion over the Earth, animals included.

(I also have some great memories about my golden lab/pitt bull, who I had since I was a toddler and lived until my teens, but that’s another long story, haha. Suffice it to say, dog are seemingly simpler creatures, but rewarding in a very different way, and very, very loyal.)

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