Part V: Purrsonality disorder
When you come home from work, it doesn’t matter how bad your day has been when your baby doggo greets you at the door, wagging and whining and panting furiously, bursting with excitement at your return. It’s like the world melts away and you regain the energy to take another stab at life.
I wish Dukie were like that.
As she hears the locks turning, Dukie whimpers excitedly that a family member has come home. When the door opens, she jolts in fright realising it’s me and runs under the bed. It doesn’t matter how bad my day has been, she unfailingly makes it worse by doing this. I wish I could stop being so hopeful.
Eddie, on the other hand, comes out of whatever squirrel den he’s been attacking and wraps himself around my legs. I sit on the porch and pat my legs for him to come and, like the obedient dog he is, he leaps onto my lap and settles down for petting.
Even when it comes to playing, Eddie is a better dog than Dukie. Dukie (when she hasn’t run away in fear), likes to play fetch. When I throw her toys, she will run maniacally towards the toy, run straight past it and then turn arbitrarily and run back towards me. And then she does it again. I have not thrown anything. Her mind has become enough entertainment for her.
Eddie will play something akin to run and catches with me. He will hide somewhere and pounce on me when he doesn’t think I see him. Or I’ll chase him around the house and then he’ll chase me back. We got him a laser pointer, since cats tend to enjoy that, but he loves running a lot more. You know, like a dog.
Eddie also obediently responds to his name. We have to holler maybe four times and he will emerge from wherever he has been, ready to do as we wish. Meanwhile, no matter how earnestly we call for her, Dukie remains under the bed, either licking herself or sleeping and just doesn’t give a flying fiddle. Like a cat.
I guess what makes Eddie such an ideal dog is that he behaves likes a dog but has the versatility of a cat. He’s like a self-cleaning dog that can also find its own food. All the affection and softness with none of the fuss. I treat him like a plush toy with a heartbeat and he still has unconditional love for me. I import expensive hypoallergenic shampoos and digestion-sensitive treats for Dukie and she reacts to me like a vampire would to garlic.
I haven’t given up on Dukie. I am a dog-lover and Dukie is – contrary to all observations – a dog. But obviously, my fluffy ginger-white Eddie has stolen this dog-lover’s heart. And as it stands, my cat is the best dog I’ve ever had.
Read Part III: Rejection