We Fidos kept the little troublemakers away for a few hundred thousand years, though. Chased those little jerks till the tails fell off some of 'em.

And then a couple snuck in. Those purry, furry little bastards, with their "cute" kittens just moved in, took over. "Clean" my butt. They lick themselves to try to get the taste of being a cat out of their mouths. And now they generally live in the house. Sleep on the bed. Eat in the kitchen.

While we've been relegated to the garage or outside. Sleep on the floor. Eat on the floor. But NO, we can't pee on the floor, and don't have those fancy boxes filled with perfumed sand! What a candy-butted farce that is! Next they'll have wipers with scented paper for their little pampered hind ends. Which stink!

I'd pamper them. I'd pamper them right in the chops!

They aren't faithful, they're little "creatures of the evening", following anyone with a pound of food. They aren't good protectors, don't warn of badguys, they are absolutely useless.

It's not fair. And if I were a cat, at least I'd have the good sense to be ashamed of it!

Arf. Grrr, rrruf, bow-wow!