By Don Rush

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve all read the book of Mice and Men. But, have you read the one about dogs and cats?
Over the years I have been pretty up front about canines and felines. Dogs are great to have and cats are okay. Before you cat lovers sharpen your pencils, put away your anger (life is too short to be angry all the time). I’ve stated it over and over, I have nothing against cats. Cats are cool. They keep the house clean of varmints. They don’t bark. They’re quiet and sneaky. But, I just like dogs better.
Because dogs have been with us since there was an “us.” When people got together, they started genetically altering those critters with long snouts and bushy tails in the Canidae family. We found the qualities we liked from Canis Lupus and Canis Latrans and all the other Canis Critterus and bred out the things we didn’t like. Before long, where there were no Canis Familiaris, we all had dogs that barked with joy when we came home. Some had dogs that drooled. Some bred dogs to stuff in their pockets. Others wanted dogs to herd small children in the backyard. Me, I just wanted a dog that would instinctively know when to open the refrigerator and get me a beer. (I haven’t found that breed yet, but when I do, watch out!)
So much for the history of man and dog, as told by that acclaimed historical pundit and Neanderthal Philosopher Donnius Rushimacus. Now, back to cats and dogs.
I cannot, therefore won’t say I wrote the following, it’s actually from an email I received long ago. I can (and therefore will) say, “I, your humble scribe, Don Rush, hopes you smile and laugh as I did when I read the following.”

The Pet Diaries
As seen in a dog’s diary:
8 a.m. – Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9 a.m – Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
10 a.m – Oh Boy! A walk! My favorite!
11 a.m – Oh Boy! A car ride! My favorite!
Noon – Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
1 p.m. – Oh Boy! The yard! My favorite!
3 p.m. – Oh Boy! The kids! My favorite!
4 p.m.- Oh Boy! Dog food! My favorite!
5 p.m. – Oh Boy! Mom! My favorite!
7 p.m. – Oh Boy! Playing ball! My favorite!
9 p.m. – Oh Boy! Sleeping in master’s bed! My favorite!

And, as seen in a cat’s diary:
Day 183 of my captivity…
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture.
Tomorrow I may eat another house plant. Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair — must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices, I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of “allergies.” Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.
The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time …
* * *
I do believe that pretty much sums it up. Send your comments for Donnius Rushimacus to DontRushDon@gmail.lcom.

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