I have a friend who wants me to get a cat. Actually, she wants me to get two cats. “That way they won’t get lonely when you’re away,” she says. “They can keep each other company.” I try to tell her I’ll get two cats the same day Kim Kardashian gets invited to join Mensa, but she ignores me. “Can't you see them chasing each other around, batting a ball of yarn? They’d be so cute.”
“You should bring a couple of kittens next time you come over,” I say. “They can ride little bicycles, juggle peanuts and sing show tunes. Now that would be cute. And when they're done you can pack them up and take them away.” She just shakes her head and sighs. “Absolutely hopeless. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
She's wrong; I know exactly what I’m missing. Hair balls yakked up on the carpet during dinner parties. Furniture clawed to shreds. A cat sitting on my head at oh-dark hundred to let me know it’s time for breakfast. Cats work at acting cute and cuddly, but they’re really just a bunch of furry scam artists. Sometimes you’ll catch one checking you out with a look that says, “I’d have licked your bones clean years ago if only I could work that damn can opener.”
I’ll concede one advantage cats have over dogs; you don’t have to walk them. You have to walk a dog twice a day—blizzards or monsoons, whether it’s raining broken toaster ovens or shards of broken glass. Now what's that you’re saying? A dog is a great friend? Yeah, but I already have friends. And I don’t have to walk behind them picking up their poop with a plastic bag. (But if you do that for your friends I won’t judge.)
With a dog you always have to plan your time away. Say you're thinking of skipping town for the weekend. If you have a cat you can just leave out some food and water. Maybe ask a friend or neighbor to peek in once in awhile. But leave a dog alone for a whole weekend and you'll come home to a hazmat site.
You could leave Brutus in a kennel for a few days but you never know what he’ll pick up there. The day after you bail him out you get home from work and he’s sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette, a bottle of Bud, and Rush Limbaugh on the radio. He looks up, blows a smoke ring and says, “You know, this guy makes a lot of sense if you’d just listen with an open mind.” Your dog used to like running in the park. But now he’s all about gun shows and tractor pulls.
If you’re getting the impression I don’t like animals, you’re mistaken. I’d just rather be an uncle than a parent. It’s like with babies; I enjoy making funny faces and tickling their chubby little tummies, but when they start to leak or scream or smell I’m holding them at arm’s length looking for mom or dad. (“I think this belongs to you.”)
So, no furry freeloaders for me. But who knows, someday our four-legged friends might have the last laugh. Maybe I’ll get to the Pearly Gates and find out St. Peter’s a schnauzer.
Charles Coe is author of two books of poetry: “All Sins Forgiven: Poems for my Parents” and “Picnic on the Moon,” both published by Leapfrog Press. His poetry has appeared in a number of literary reviews and anthologies, including Poesis, The Mom Egg, Solstice Literary Review, and Urban Nature. He is the winner of a fellowship in poetry from the Massachusetts Cultural Council. Charles’s poems have been set by a number of composers, including Beth Denisch, Julia Carey and Robert Moran. A short film based on his poem “Fortress” is currently in production by filmmaker Roberto Mighty. Charles is co-chair of the Boston Chapter of the National Writers Union, a labor union for freelance writers. He has been selected by the Associates of the Boston Public Library as a “Boston Literary Light for 2014.” His novella, "Spin Cycles," was published in November, 2014 by Gemma Media.