This idea is really fascinating to think about. One of our writers thought the same thing so they took a fun and creative look at How Dogs Think Versus How Cats Think. Every time I read this it makes me smile.
Take a look at a couple of examples and see what I mean…
From the Dog's Perspective: Dear Diary:
I knock myself out to please the leader of my pack. Day in and day out, I follow his lead; sit when I'm told to sit; eat when he lets me eat; sleep where he tells me to sleep; and go to the bathroom when he's ready to take me for a walk.
And what do I ask for in return? Just to be able to shower affection and attention on my Leader, and to receive praise (and a few belly rubs) for a job well done. But my housemate, the cat, has absolutely no responsibilities in our pack, and gets treated as if she's Top Dog. This is all very confusing ... maybe the Cat is the true pack leader.
Then one of the lesser members of the pack brings home this quiet little fur ball they called alternatively "The Cat" or "Whiskers." I thought the Leader was bringing me a toy, but whenever I approached, it reared back and made an ugly hissing noise. When I got real close, it batted me in the nose with its paw. Some toy!
It finally dawned on me that this was a new member of the pack. I wanted to make sure she knew her place in our little society, so I ate her food, drank her water and chased her around the house and up the bookcase. I was feeling pretty good about myself, so I sat there, barking my victory to her.
I was reprimanded! The pack leader scolded me while I was barking at the cat. I made the connection between barking and the cat – this wasn't the first time I was scolded for barking too much. But it became clear that they weren't too thrilled with me chasing the cat all over the house either.
So I ate her food and then played in the sand. What fun! Then the pack leader stopped me. Another scolding. It slowly dawned me: my place is below the cat!! How did this happen? I don't know my weights and measures, but I'm obviously bigger, AND I have seniority.
I began to notice other oddities. The cat jumps on the couch at will. She ignores the higher pack members when they call for her, and approach them when they don't call. She only comes running when she hears the can opener. She jumps on laps and goes to sleep. The day I tried that, the boy yelped and I received a reprimand.
She walks around all high and mighty, leaping on furniture; I even caught her scratching the sofa. When she wants to do nature's business, she doesn't walk to the door and whine – she struts over to a sand-filled box.
Come to think of it, Diary, she hates most everything I like: constant attention; car rides (she screams like a banshee!); fetch; walking on a leash and belly rubs. I thought I was included on that list of dislikes, but one day when I was napping on my bed, she sidled up next to me, and began making a curious, yet not displeasing buzzing noise.
And sometimes she approaches me to play, although she doesn't know how to invite me politely. Maybe there's hope for us yet, Diary. All I have to do is know my place in the pack.
From the Cat's Perspective: Dear Diary:
He's at it again. The barking. That constant barking during my daily naps. I don't know what I dislike most about that dog – the barking, the foreign scent everywhere, his freakish need for approval and attention ... and the baffling desire to eat my food and play in my litter box.
Just what is he trying to prove?
Perhaps I should start at the beginning. I adopted a family recently. As I
But every time I went on kitty patrol, I picked up that scent again. Well, after a few days, I discovered what the smell was. A dog! My family hid him like a dirty little secret, no doubt afraid of my reaction. I suppose they wanted to ease me by introducing the dog gradually.
I stumbled upon him by accident when the door was accidentally left open. He came into my room and tried to greet me with that big snout of his, but I bravely batted him with my paw and ran away. The lumbering giant took after me, and I nimbly avoided him by climbing my tree.
I don't understand his behavior, Diary, or why my family puts up with him. He hardly sleeps a wink and always wants to play. Sure, I was like that as a kitten, but you have to grow up sometimes.
As the months passed, it became clear the dog just wasn't learning the art of subtlety. He doesn't understand there is a time and place for everything. When someone calls for me, why rush? What's so important I have to run? And the incessant begging. Where's his dignity? If you see something you want, just show a little more affection and purr a little louder to remind the family you're there.
Well, I decided to make the dog my pet project. I try to set an example of how to hunt and chase, the proper times and places to take a nap and that he has his food and I have mine. I think I'm beginning to rub off on him. The other day, I caught the dog taking a midday nap. I was so proud I couldn't resist joining him. Now, we have a routine. We take one nap a day together, eat, then he chases me until I get tired of the game and tease him by climbing out of his reach. I've even grown accustomed to his scent.
He still reverts to form on occasion, though. When he's excited, the dog just can't help jumping, running and, worst of all, that barking. Oh well, Diary. We'll just take it one day at a time ...
Text and pictures supplied by:
www.champsdogdish.com
www.sassyscatdish.com
