Dogs and cats are making the local headlines once again. Every week it seems that one or the other is stolen, gets lost, or miraculously shows up after disappearing for years, sort of like politicians around election time.
Heaven knows that I’ve had my share of pets that have vanished. When some have reappeared, I have to admit that I locked the front door, turned out the lights, and kept quiet until they took off again. But others I’ve spent hours searching for, and it certainly is a nerve-wracking experience worrying about their whereabouts. Is my pussycat stuck in a tree somewhere, besieged by rabid squirrels and deranged crows? Did Rover run off to join ISIS?
The most intriguing recent story involved a cat who wandered off, was taken in by another family, and five years later returns and is reclaimed by its original owner. Now each family has its own name for the cat and, naturally, both want to keep it.
All of which will predictably result in a joint-custody battle between the two families. The end result could be that the cat will spend alternating weeks with the two families. And you know how the cat will take advantage of that situation.
During his time with one family he will complain about his treatment at the other home, sing his position to cajole both masters to shower him with treats so that they can become his “favorites.” Utilizing this tactic, soon his huge cat-toy collection will become the envy of the litter. Due to overindulgence he will eventually become a catnip junkie and end up out on the street again, begging for milk and seeking shelter in a discarded shoe box. It’s a sad tale, told and retold countless times.
Certainly, none of this comes as a surprise to us who have experienced even a casual cat companionship. Only a cat would show up at a strange family’s door and attempt an almost immediate coup.
If you let a lost dog into your home, his friendly face cries out “Just tell me what you want me to do for some food scraps. Sit? You want me to sit? Got anything easier I can do?
How about giving me a belly rub and we’ll talk this over?”
Whereas a cat, within minutes of strolling into a new home, appears to be saying “Look, you can feed me if you want, but chances are I won’t eat that slop that you call gourmet cat food. And if you even think of touching my belly I’ll remove all the flesh from your hand quicker than you can say ‘Nice Kitty.’”
In contrast to cats, dogs make sacrifices for others. They rescue people who are in danger such as drowning or lost in the woods. Remember Lassie? Or Old Yeller? You never saw Fluffy the pussycat saving Timmy from a trained circus bear trying to act ferocious, did you? No, of course not. A cat would more likely think “Bye, Timmy, it’s been nice knowing you” before scampering up the nearest tree to wait until the coast is clear.
You never see pictures on the Internet of a cat grieving for its owner after he or she has passed away. In contrast to a dog that will lie on the grave, sadly resting its head on its front paws, refusing to budge for days, a deceased owner’s cat is more likely to treat the freshly-dug grave as a large litter box.
Some animal experts say that it is unhealthy to leave a cat alone at home for an extended time. Cats will become bored when alone so owners should scatter toys for them to bat around, set up various scratching poles, and erect towers to climb. But I say, if a cat is alone how do we know that it is doing any of these things? My guess is that, after wondering why the humans left all this junk lying around, a cat is more likely to find a warm spot and sleep the entire time.
Cats do not seem to develop much emotional attachment to their owners. It’s easy to imagine that a cat reuniting with its owner after five years away would be pretty cool about the whole thing and act like nothing happened. But a dog in a similar situation would spin in circles, jump up on you, lick your face, and get so excited that it would pee on its favorite table leg —now that’s real love.
So it's only natural that when a cat gets lost it would take for granted that the inhabitants of the next house it comes upon will find it simply adorable after a small dose of purring and leg rubbing. Why not just hang out there for five years before deciding to head home?
After all, a cat has nine lives – might as well live each one at a different home.
Mike Murphy retired after a 35-year teaching and coaching career. He has a master’s degree in English from the University of Nebraska and is an Associated Press award-winning columnist.