SPLENDOR IN THE SNOW

I'd like to take a moment and say something about a dog. Because I did actually meet and know a really good one. So please don't think that I dislike ALL dogs. Because I don't. I just think cats are more of a challenge. And I really do like a good challenge. Anyway, we used to have this wonderful little mutt (her name was Tina) when I was growing up in Chicago. Tina was a genius. I'm being serious here. That dog was ten times more intelligent than the rest of the people I lived with in our house. I used to look at her sometimes, and I swear she could tell exactly what I was thinking. If I was about to say: Wanna go for a walk? Her long floppy ears would prick up a bit, and she would tilt her fuzzy little head all of a sudden. And then when I finally said the words she already knew I was going to say - she would dash to the front hall, grab her leash off the table, and in a flash - she was motioning for me to slip it on her collar so we could get the hell out of there, and go on one of our great adventures together outside.

She loved to spend hours in the snow, and so did I. We both liked winter better than summer. And when we went to the park on a late winter afternoon: it seemed like we were the only living souls there, and all that white wide open space belonged to us alone. Later, after we finally decided to go back home - if I was feeling especially sad or depressed about something and hiding all day in bed under the covers - Tina would suddenly appear out of nowhere, and start making these really pitiful little whining noises at me. I'm pretty sure she was letting me know that she was on my side, and I didn't have to suffer alone anymore. And then after I patted the bed a couple of times, she would let out a little yip of joy, and hop in with me. Then she'd lick my face twice (never more than that), and we'd settle down to take a little nap together. And a lot of the sadness really did seem to go away for awhile.

Another amazing thing about Tina: She was wild about Shakespeare (mostly the tragedies). I'm not making this up. She loved it when I read long passages of Hamlet or Romeo And Juliet to her out loud. She would just look at me with those big brown intelligent eyes of hers, and give me her absolute attention as Shakespeare's poetry rolled off of my tongue. So you see why I say she was a genius now? And there will never be another dog like her. At least I haven't met one yet. Because one day in late December, after she somehow escaped from our fenced in front yard and failed to come right back home - I spent close to six hours out in the freezing Chicago snow, desperately calling out her name as I searched for her in our favorite park. But she was gone forever. Just like that.

And after my hands and feet were so numb that I couldn't feel them anymore, I made my uncertain way back home, and somehow just knew that I'd never see her intelligent big brown eyes again. And her leash on the table in the hall made me so very sad, that I threw it in the trash the very next day. But her memory was not as easy to let go of. Because no other dog I have ever met has managed to replace her in my heart. And no dog ever could. So maybe that's why I decided to just be happy with cats? Because I got tired of always looking for another Tina, when there is not another dog like her in all the wide world. So it was time to let go. No more long walks in the snow.

Essay © 2016 by Dylan Mitchell

WHY DO SO MANY MEN HATE CATS?

I really do need somebody to help me out here. Can
someone please tell me why so many men HATE cats?
I mean, I've always liked cats a lot. And I'm pretty
sure I'm a dude. So there are some exceptions. But
keep in mind that I am also a poet - and we tend to be
a fairly strange breed. So maybe that's why I like
cats? But have you ever noticed that most men seem to
DESPISE felines with a vehement passion? It almost
borders on a phobia! These dudes will say the most
incredibly offensive things about cats and their
"sickening" habits. But how come? HELP!

I have a theory? It's just a small one, and not all
that scientific, so again - feel free to offer your own
insights. I think a lot of men secretly feel
threatened by cats. Of course no dude will ever fess
up to that. It would make them appear too weak. And
that's the worst thing that can happen to a dude's
ego. But why the murderous feelings? The only good cat
is a dead cat? That kind of passion to me means that
something very deep is going on inside the dude's
head. I mean, some of the things they will actually
say: Cats are stupid. A dog is better. At least it
will do something when you tell it to. So is that it?
Most men feel threatened by cats because a cat
actually knows how to think for itself, and will look
at you like you are insane if you order it to do
something?

And a lot of men take it very personally when a cat
ignores their attempts at making friends with them.
The cat is simply too stupid or stubborn to be
overjoyed about getting a nice little pat on the head.
Bad, bad cat! Well, I actually admire the cat for
being so independent and aloof. I understand that I am
going to have to earn the cat's respect and trust
before it will allow me to manhandle it in any kind of
fashion. I actually think dogs are kind of silly for
being so easy. It doesn't impress me when I have to
fend off some overgrown mutt that insists I pet it,
and let it lick me from head to toe—not even one
minute after I have first made its acquaintance.

And don't get me started on the litter box deal.
That's usually the excuse I get when I ask a dude why
he is so phobic about cats. He actually hates the
sickening litter box more than the poor cat. But is it
less sickening to have to follow a dog around as you
take it for its morning stroll, and get ready to scoop
up the latest……. I think you know what comes next.
I mean, I find that much more "sickening" than a
harmless little litter box. And who wants to get up at
the crack of dawn, and take Butch outside for his
first walk of the day? I sometimes don't even get out
of bed till the sun has gone down! I am truly baffled
by this cat phobia thing.

So I am hoping that some of you cat hating dudes (the
more honest ones) will bravely step forward and clue
me in. Just fess up that you really hate cats. Then
try and give me a really good reason why - I mean,
something that makes sense. This could very well be
the first step in your recovery - or even my own.
Perhaps you'll somehow convince me that dogs really
are much better than cats. And I hope to hear from
some of the cat lovers too. Men and women both.
Because I am hoping to solve this mystery that's been
bugging me for many a year: Why do so many men hate
cats? Please help me out here.

Essay © 2009 by Dylan Mitchell