‘Rats’ to cats: The domestic feline’s where Prioleau draws the line
Last month I opined on the wonders of world’s most beloved pet, the dog. After quite a bit of pressure from a number of our readers, I’ve decided this month to write a few lines about cats.
Unbeknownst to most — and 100 percent a fact — the domestic feline has failed to evolve mentally and to this day shares its cerebral impulses with its big cat ancestors — lions, tigers, cougars, cheetahs, etc. What this means to cat owners is simple: If your cat was big enough, it would kill and eat you.
It’s true. You can look it up.
This prompts the question, “What would be a better pet than one that literally wants to tear my throat out?”
I’d begin with the honey badger. This ferocious little fellow is considered by zoologists to be the most fearless animal on the planet. A cursory search on YouTube will yield video evidence of a honey badger terrorizing lions, warthogs and Cape buffalo. Robert Ruark, who knew the beast from many encounters on safari, was so sure of his ex-wife’s meanness that he entitled a book, The Honey Badger, and illuminated his grievances.
You’ll also come to learn that not only do honey badgers love eating honey — despite being stung hundreds of times while doing so — they also love to eat snakes. Sadly for the poisonous snakes, the honey badger’s skin is so tough their fangs rarely penetrate. Same with porcupine quills. A machete usually fails to cut their skin.
In short, the honey badger hates everyone and everything. It does not, however, spend naps dreaming of killing humans, which gives it a leg up on cats.
The next natural animal for the list is the hippo. If there’s anything cuter than a baby hippo, I’ve never encountered it. When hippos grow up, they go from being super-cute to being the leading cause of death-by-animal-attack in any region they reside. They are so completely Chuck Norris-esque, they loiter in ponds and creeks inhabited massive African crocodiles. Like … they just stand there inches away, chilling out. The crocodiles have learned throughout the millennia that even nipping at a hippo results in being ground into pixie dust by the hippo’s stomp-o-matic feet.
Despite hippos’ propensity for killing humans, it does so without malice or hunger — it’s just very, very territorial. This makes them much better than cats.
The ear wig is also a creature that ranks in desirability above the domestic feline. Legend has it that the ear wig bug will crawl into your ear while you sleep and upon finding itself unable to turn around, eat its way through your brain and exit out the other ear.
Please note that the ear wig only eats the victim’s brain — not the entire human — and those who prefer cats to dogs are probably better off with a sizable chunk of their brain gone.
A rattlesnake is another fine pet, when compared to the cat.
Let’s say you walk into the TV room while your rattlesnake is taking a nap. The rattlesnake first retreats, as it has no truck with anything it doesn’t plan to eat. If you continue to approach the rattlesnake, like a gentleman he shakes his rattles furiously, to let you know he’s afraid, or at least a bit concerned. As a last resort — when you refuse his offer to back away — he strikes.
Now let’s say you walk into TV when your cat is taking a nap. If it had the option and ability, it would launch into the air, crush your windpipe and hold you down until you expired due to a lack of oxygen. Then it would eat you.
Fleas would also make a far better pet than a cat. While a cat shuns all attempts at affection or bonding, fleas want nothing more than to be near you, cuddling and snuggling and giving little love nips. At best, a cat might sleep at the edge of your bed, simply because it’s irritating … fleas want little more than to be under the covers, as close as they can be.
It goes without saying a buzzard would be a far superior household companion. It will, quite literally, eat whatever you put in front of it, provided it is meat-based and no longer palatable to you. This is due to the buzzard’s giving nature, as it would never be so greedy as to demand something you might still enjoy eating.
Then, consider the time and expense involved in finding a food a cat “agrees” to eat. Hundreds of dollars and months later, the stupid beast finally agrees to choke down Frisky’s Salmon and Caviar Smoothie Blend and the owner blushes with glee that Kitty-Kitty has found their service to be acceptable. The whole finicky food scam, of course, is to simply torture owner — in case you’ve missed it, cats happily eat raw mice, birds and squirrels.
A grizzly bear would be a better pet than a cat. A bear relieves itself in the woods, while a cat stinks up million-dollar homes by relieving itself into kitty litter.
I can’t much imagine owning a cat and watching the arrogant little monster strut and preen around my home, tearing my furniture to pieces and hacking up hairballs. They have no loyalty or love or purpose, other than to be chased by dogs.
Okay, I’ll admit this one thing I like about cats: I enjoy a solid buffet and, when deep fried and served with sweet and sour sauce, they taste pretty good.