As the detectives on this site may have surmised, I have recently taken on an extra pet to deal with vermins. We now have a cat, in addition to a dog. This week has been spent getting them used to each other against all their natural instincts. It has been challenging, someone’s always got to be about to supervise, but the cat is learning quickly.
It was a frightened little shit that would cower under furniture. After that, he started to stand his ground and snarl. His current tactic is crawl under the sofa, and use it as armour while he flings a claw-packed paw in the dog’s general direction. That’s total cat shit, btw. “Yeah, I’ll fight you, but I’m not going to put a lot of effort in, like”.
Anyway, I’ve been charmed by this little ginger bastard to the point where I appreciate cats again, after years of declaring myself a dog person,. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not crossing the floor of the house here. I am not moving from kennel to litter tray. However, cats are fascinating bloody creatures and I think I appreciate both pets’ qualities a load more for having one of each around.
I also reckon there’s something very primal about having animals about the place. The whole subject of animal domestication is interesting, taking place over thousands of years and pet generations. I bet people were walking dogs across Doggerland
So, bit of love for our furry friends please. If you want to express a preference, thar be a poll above. If anyone has any tips on resolving multi-species occupancy, that’d be appreciated too.
Chez Goat Tahiti Branch has 21 cats (yes, the sister in law is weird), two pitbulls and several random chickens.
The cats rule despite the fact that the older pitbull (Maru) could polish one off in a single mouthful.
Kid Goat has bonded with younger pitbull (Diego). It’s going to be traumatic when we leave on Tuesday evening.
She can also name all the cats (8 of them are black and all look the same to me).
I like both. If Chez Goat Soton Branch had more garden and one of us was at home all day, I would definitely be acquiring a dog to go with our two cats.
I was brought up with dogs so obviously this has coloured my opinion. Never thought it right to keep a dog when my wife and I worked full-time but on retirement we decided the time was right. We have a Cocker Spaniel bought from a registered breeder and the little chap is 10 years old now.
For people taking on a dog you should realise you’re taking on another dependant. Dogs are much more people focussed and you have to adjust your life-style to accommodate them. As much as we love the little fella I think once he goes we won’t have another. We’re both in our '60s and in retirement you need to make the most of your time without the constraints of another dependant.
I say that now but when the time comes the pull of a cute little puppy is going to be hard to resist.
Had both in the past and cats, continuously, for about 30 years.
I love big dogs (labradors, retrievers, setters etc) and don’t much like ‘handbag’ dogs.
At one time we had a labrador and four cats (mum and 3 kittens) and the dog permanently walked around with her head held sideways as the cats would always swipe at her nose when she walked by.
We adopted our current cat when her elderly owners died within a short time of each other but we’ve always had rescue cats. She’s very old and poor value for money and I’ve decided we probably won’t get another when she goes. However, that seems a long way off.
Sorry for not being empthatic but how do you test a cat for kidney cancer ?
surely the cat would be illish you take it to the vet and he/she says we cant do anything but testing them for different types of cancer seam’s a bit over the top to me. then how would you cure it?
I am a dog person. We had a Cocker Spaniel when I was growing up and I had a Weimaraner for a while until the first Mrs SOG gave her away. Mrs SOGs 1 & 2 are both cat people and I am currently allowed to share our house with a little black cat. However, Mrs SOG 2 has now been converted to dogs and when we are able to give the time over to looking after a dog the little black cat will have a puppy friend to play with.
My Weimaraner had to learn to live with three cats when I and Mrs SOG 1 got together and that worked pretty well - in fact one of the cats used to come for walks with us. We tend to help look after our neighbours dogs short term which gives us a dog fix for the time being.
The vet surmised that that was what the problem was, we could have gone for biopsy and all that shit but treatment would have only prolonged her life by 6 months at most!
As she was detiorating we decided against more tests and had her euthanised
I’ve cast my vote for both. I grew up with dogs (my parents got our first dog when I was about six, and still have a dog now. This one could be the last though, as they’re 87 and 88 years old now - the dog is 11). I have a three-year-old working cocker spaniel who’s just gorgeous. I’ve owned quite a few cats over the years, particularly when I lived in London.
My ever-loving wife doesn’t like cats at all, though she never seemed to object to the one I had when I first met her. Maybe that was because the cat was very old and not particularly active by that time. By contrast, my ex-wife loved cats but disliked dogs - we had three cats when we split up; she took the two young ones and I took the old lady.
I have some more observations about cats following more time with the new pet. That hiding away somewhere out of reach for hours is a good trick, isn’t it?
Saturday was an utter nightmare. The cat went missing; no amount of pssting or plates of food was bringing him back. The patio doors had been open for a few minutes, and he’s never made a run for them before. There were also two upstairs windows open. The longer the cat was missing, the more I copped shite for the upstairs windows, everyone’s working theory being that the cat had decided to plunge itself out of the window for no good reason.
By hour four, the missus was doing 10mph cruises around the neighbourhood looking for our mog. I was taking up high positions and looking for cat-shaped splats in the main road. No cat. This is a positive of sorts.
By hour six, everyone was thoroughly resigned to the idea that we were the worst fucking cat owners in the world. Worse, the missus was supposed to be attending a party at the house of the people that gave us the cat. That never happened.
It’s hour eight. The youngest has had a little weep, and has finally stopped throwing daggers my way as I transition between rooms. I settle in the garage for a smoke.
Mew. Mew.
The little bastard was in the rafters. Climbed down on his own too, the little shit - so it’s not like he couldn’t get down. Cats do this shit, apparently.
The thing that really boils my noodle is that at no stage was there ever a problem. Just a perception of one.
