It’s a Good Thing That Bad People Aren’t Cats

Reading Time: 2 minutes

Daisy showed up, barely a kitten, at the farm, her tail shortened by someone, almost certainly not the results of her genetics.

She is for the most part loving.  She tolerates us very graciously and cares that we inhabit her territory. We say, awwwww, when she  rubs up against us, affectionately.

Okay, she probably isn’t really loving and may not even tolerate us in terms that we  humans understand.

Appparently the rubbing does not exhibit a single bit of affection in the action.

It’s that soft, silky fur, that seduces us, (filled as it is with all sorts of invisible bacteria and parasites, cat glands oozing and depositing signaling compounds as they  rub against our legs, all with a singular lack of malice).

We kind of like how cats ooze nonchalance.

We are sucked into affection by their mastery of indifference.

It’s rather clever how their actions make us feel superior, when what they are is killing machines. And terrorists.

That’s why I think it’s a good thing that bad people aren’t cats.

Case in point: Daisy this morning as she exhibited her latest kill trophy.

I probably shouldn’t say ‘kill’ because she made the rat suffer before its demise. On purpose. With extreme prejudice. Disguised in indifference.

This is Daisy saying, “Yeah. It’s me. I’m bad.”


Dexter shows up and only God knows why, she figures she’ll give it another go in teaching him her cat ways. (Which means she let the rat think it was escaping, only to dash it’s hope, time after time.)

Teasing the Rat

This is Daisy saying, “Geez, is he dumb.”


This is Daisy saying, “he has no idea what he’s doing but he tries to do it very fast”.


Poodles don’t have this heart. It’s the cold, steely eyed stare from the heart of a killer who knows how to torture. upclose

I think the mouse just gave up its will to live.

Then Daisy ate it.

If bad people were dogs, we might be better off.



One Response

  1. LOL! All God’s creatures….what can ya say? Love the pics and your narrative 🙂 Brought a smile to my face for sure! I’ve only had one cat (out of many) that didn’t have the killer instinct. Amy, a Himalayan, for some reason was wired wrong. I recall one time when she was out and about that I could hear the Blue Jays throwing a major fuss and were attacking her as she lay in the yard. Come to find out, their baby was on the ground and sitting between Amy’s outstretched paws. She was fascinated by it, but had no intention of harming it. Of course the parents didn’t know that! After a few minutes, I had no choice but to rescue Amy before they plucked her eyes out. Another time, a chipmunk got in the house (& to this day I don’t know how – the one and only chipmunk I’ve ever seen in Paragould). I chased the little fella all through the house with a dip net trying to corral it. Amy lay on the back of the recliner watching the whole ordeal and never moved a muscle. Let’s just say I figured out in short order that Amy would never survive if she had to catch her own food – and God forbid if it wasn’t cooked 😉

Comments are closed.

Recent posts!

do it!

for more, much more...

All the ideas, advice, and opinion six decades can provide… and maybe a little wisdom.

do it!

for more, much more...

All the ideas, advice, and opinion six decades can provide… and maybe a little wisdom.