The Dog Stalker

The Dog Stalker

I hate dogs. I’m not really a bad cat, but when I was a kitten a dog almost ended my short life. And don’t believe that bullshit about us having 9 lives. That was probably disseminated by a dog that didn’t want to feel bad about killing cats. I don’t really want to kill dogs, but I want to teach them to respect us. I’m not sure this is working, dogs seem to get crankier as they get older.

Since you ask, I’m going to tell you a story about sex. I’ve heard that sex sells. Not sure what that means, or why, but it has a nice ring to it.

There is a lot of sex in my neighborhood. I don’t really understand it, but I like to watch my neighbors through their windows at night. What they call sex seems like a lot of work for nothing. Sex is for making kittens. I don’t know why humans are so emotional about it. Either they want too much of it, or they don’t get enough of it. Humans are really weird, but you already know that, don’t you?

I don’t want you to think I enjoy watching them doing this sex thing, but I do enjoy watching the television, that they inevitably leave on while they are doing their little horizontal dance, and I sometimes get pretty good food too. Usually they leave the window open, and I found that sneaking in, and taking the food from the coffee table, while that are messing about on the couch works really well.

I get great laugh when the television has commercials for cat food. People have absolutely no idea what we like to eat, but it is entertaining to watch nevertheless. I have to remember not to get distracted by the television while gathering my dinner from the coffee table. One time another neighbor threw a shoe at me and hit me on the head before I was able to finish the food he left on the table.

I live in lower Manhattan, and I share my turf with my half brother. He’s an asshole, but I’ve learned to tolerate him. I have cousins who live on other blocks, but we rarely get together anymore. We did when we were little, but now we all seem so busy foraging for food we don’t have time for socializing like we used to as kittens.

There used to be a Chinese restaurant in our building, so I never went to sleep hungry, but last year they closed it. There was a sign on the door that said closed by the FDA. If you are a cat, the FDA is not your friend.

Some of the cats in the neighborhood overheard that they shut it down due to mice infestation. That’s baloney. I’d been in their kitchen many times and never saw a single mouse. I wish I had, as they make a tasty supper. In any case, now we have to scrounge through people’s trashcans, and that is a lot harder. They make the trash cans “raccoon proof”, but a garbage can we can’t open has not been invented yet.

You are probably wondering what this has to do with sex. Well, I’m going to tell you a story. I was in the alley behind my building looking for some food a few nights ago, when I saw a couple locked in an embrace in a park bench across the street. All of a sudden I get whiff of Big Macs. There, next to the couple, was a bag with Big Macs. Now this is probably a good time to blow another urban myth. Dogs have pretty good smell, no doubt. But it is nothing compared to cats. If humans knew we could smell better than dogs, they would want to enslave us, like they do to dogs. Cats don’t like to be told what to do. We are free beings, unlike the dogs that have been bred to the point that all they know how to do is lick their master’s ass, while wagging their tail and asking them “am I your favorite?” Gross. Did you know dogs were once wild and free? You don’t believe me? It’s true. I saw it on National Geographic. Dogs have relatives called wolves, and they run wild and they hunt their own food. I bet those wolves don’t kiss up to humans.

Anyway, back to my story. The two that were locked together on the park bench seemed to be having a good time.  Why? I don’t know. Swapping spit is disgusting. Maybe somebody should tell them how good it feels to have your ears scratched? That works for us.

I’m not sure humans are that bright anyway. Cats understand humans, but humans don’t understand cats. Humans like to think they control everything. We don’t like to be told what to do, even by humans. Since telling them to mind their own business doesn’t seem to get through to them, we just ignore them.

Just imagine what we could do if we had opposing thumbs? We’d run the world. We pretty much do it anyway. We let humans think all we want to do is lie around and sleep.  The truth is that we are very heavy thinkers, and while humans watch television all day, we are solving the problems of the world.

In any case, my friends in the park bench were busy, so I snuck up on them, and liberated the paper bag that had the scrumptious food in it. I then went back into the alley and proceeded to scarf it down.

A few minutes later the two on the bench got up and started walking towards my building. That is when I noticed that the man was my friend, and lived on the 3rd floor. Sometimes he left a saucer with milk for me in the window still. Milk is ok, but it’s for kittens. I prefer whiskey. My friend on the 3rd floor always left his window open, and after he went to bed I would go into his apartment and check out what he left for me on the coffee table. Pizza and whiskey are my favorites. I would always finish the pizza dinner off with the milk he left me, as I my mother taught me never to waste food. She would always say, “…just imagine all the starving kittens in China.”

A couple of times I brought him a gift of a dead mouse in exchange, but I don’t think he liked my gifts, as he threw them in the trash the next day.

Anyway I started running up to my favorite vantage point to see if my friend was going to engage in this horizontal dance, and turn on the television. I wanted to chill and digest the BigMacs.

I wish he wouldn’t order pickles with them. Pickles give me heartburn.

As I jumped across the landing I saw a my neighbor’s ugly bulldog, sleeping by an open window. This was an opportunity I could not miss. My favorite trick was to sneak up on them and screech at the top of my lungs, while smacking them on the ass with a carefully placed paw.

I got into position, as I learned from watching big cats on National Geographic Wild. Then I moved slowly, ever so slowly, until I was barely a few inches from that brute. Then I pulled my paw back, extended my claws, and…SMACK!   EOWWW!!

What a beautiful sight! The poor bulldog never knew what hit him, as he dove and disappeared under his masters bed. I was out the window before anybody saw me. I was very lucky, as the pickles were repeating and I almost belched before I launched my attack. The smell of the pickles would surely have wakened the beast, and then the outcome could have been very different. I guess I’ve always loved living on the edge.

A few minutes later I was nestled on my perch as the lights came on in the apartment on the 3rd floor. The television came on and the couple sat on the couch. The man held the remote and he clicked around till NatGeo came on.

Then I heard my half brother coming across the roof.

“Hi bro. I heard the screech. That was amazing. Everybody in the neighborhood heard it. Your reputation as a dog stalker is growing by the minute.” He said.

My half brother was not against kissing my ass so he could watch the show in the evenings with me. Oh well, he was family and maybe not too much of asshole after all.

“Sit down bro. The show is about to start. I think this episode is about big cats in someplace called Kenya. Pay attention. You can learn a lot from these shows.” I said.
“Is there any food for us?” My brother asked.
“Nah, they ate it earlier.” I lied.


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