NOTE: This is a bitter, invective response to my very astute observations in the previous post. You may want to glance at those before reading this trash.
Rumbler:
I shared your latest email about dogs and cats with Tiger, our nine year
Old tabby cat. He has asked me to share his comments with you, since(he
says)you are obviously ill-informed about the lives of The Great Feline Race(his term).
First of all, Tiger says that despite your calumnious claim, cats do not
fight and fuck simultaneously. They fight then fuck then fight then fuck then fight then fuck then fight then. and so on. It is only the gross and non-discerning human eye that cannot distinguish between the two. Or perhaps, he says, it's been so long since you've done either yourself, you can no longer tell the difference (I did not want to pass that one along, but Tiger insisted).
With regard to your callous statement that cats are not being mutilated by veterinarians, Tiger wishes you to know that he is a card-carrying member of the Feline Vengeance Society (motto: Eye for Eye, Ball for Ball). Though they are outsized and outgunned, each member has pledged all nine of his lives to bringing justice to their enemy. One token of their success is that a majority of new members entering the Vienna Boys Choir (of Vienna Virginia) are ex-veterinarians (why do you think your vet is a girl?). The fact that you are unaware of the vast dimensions of this tragic international holocat, Tiger says, reflects the ignorant arrogance of a typical American running dog.
Tiger also wants to take issue with your comment as to why cats can roam free and dogs must be kept inside or on a leash. It's roughly analogous to why we humans keep the criminally insane behind bars while allowing Nobel Prize winning scientists and artists free access to just about anything they want. And as to the reason cats bring little dead animals to their owners, he agrees with your comment that veterinarians are full of dog poop, but says you still don't have it right. Cats do this to protest against the horrid quality of the food that's being dumped in their trays day after day. Leftover horse bones and mouse droppings, Tiger calls it. They want fresh kill, like their bigger brethren in the wild get.
Just to show you that there are no hard feelings, Tiger asked me to close with some good advice on how to train your dogs (which he agrees are incorrigible morons, though they probably can't help it, being dogs, you know). He says that the "ineffectual monosyllabic commands" you've been using are simply the wrong ones. What you need to do is wait until your dog is out in the middle of the road in the path of an onrushing truck. Then, in a voice of great command and authority, you shout: "Stay!" He says this works best if you practice by leaving milk bones in the middle of the street for a while.
Finally (I also did not want to include this, but Tiger is very
persuasive), Tiger says that you should be happy to see cat paw prints on your car in the morning. If you get on the wrong side of the Feline Vengeance Society, you could find them somewhere that you would consider to be far more unpleasant. He also told me to emphasize that he didn't disagree with absolutely everything in your email (I didn't want to say their either): you are not a writer (Tiger says), and should stick with drinking beer and fighting with your dogs - and trying to not get confused and doing something else that you might later regret.
Your Big Brother
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