Stop the War

No, not the war in Iraq. I'm talking about the one where two races live nearly side-by-side, but continue this tradition of aggression that their ancestors taught since the earliest days of history.

I'm talking about the war between cats and dogs. My poor dog, Mia, is as guilty as anyone. We rescued her, so I've no idea what her early years were like. But unless her entire family was slaughtered by felines before her very eyes, her cat-hatred is uncalled for.

Just a few weeks ago, while walking, she sniffed a cat on the other side of a fence. She immediately barked her head off at it: "For the sins of your fathers, you honorless sack of hair! I shall strip your skin from your bones and have you turned into a pair of earmuffs! Which no one will ever buy because we live in FLORIDA!"

At least I assume that's what "bow-wow-wow" meant. I could be off slightly.

The cat, obligingly scared shitless, went screaming up a 10 foot palm tree. Very shortly thereafter it contemplated, as all cats in such situations do, how very much easier it is to get up a tree than to get down one.

Mia pranced. Then sat. Then pranced a bit more. All the while with the smuggest and most self-satisfied look I have ever seen on a dog's face. When I finally dragged her away, she went with the self-assurance that she "Had done her part to preserve the honor of all the generations of canines before me. Enjoy your impending lesson in Newtonian law, sandbox-shitter." Or at least that's what I heard.

I thought that would be the end of it, but today, the counter shot was fired. This post is already long enough, but I'll tell you of the feline treachery later.