A Canine Versus Feline

Submitted by Beatrice on Tue, 05/08/2001 - 07:00

As I sit here struggling with spring allergies, on the back steps, I truly appreciate the beauties of companionship. Next to me my little dog lies, fully appreciating the stroking and scratching he finds himself receiving from my idle hands. Though it appears that he has the better side of the bargain, his little presence means everything to me. I have never owned a cat, and yet, almost without hesitation, I could say that I will always love the canine more than the feline. For, to me, canine means trust, affection, and warmth.

Eyes, though they seem so trivial compared with all the other differences between a cat and dog, are what first catch our eyes, and surprisingly, make an incredibly important impression on us. Mostly green, blue, or golden, with a black oval in the center, quick, searching, and mysterious, those eyes find a home in the face of a cat. In complete contrast, the dark brown eyes of a dog mean dependence, adoration, and energy. One of the fascinating things about dogs is that, though they come in so many different shapes and sizes, the differences stop at the eyes. Be it Grayhound, Beagle, or Bichon Frise, they all harbor that same warm glow in their eyes.

When I see a cat, I think confidence, independence, and grace. Also, found in the persona of a cat is an air of, "I’ve got you all figured out." Cats live on "top," ready for anything, and savvy. Then you come to dogs. Sometimes they try to understand, tilting their head up at you thoughtfully, but for the most part, they’re pretty busy with the present. Most dogs seem forever content to follow their busy owners about. Independence and self-interest make a cat’s signature. While his interest in me makes the dog such an endearing companion.

As I sit here alone in front of the cold computer, my allergy sensitive eyes itchy, I think of a life without my little canine. Who would welcome me when I’ve come home? Who would look up at me tail wagging, and who would curl up at my feet, or near my ready-to-stroke hands? Truly, my brown eyed, bumbling little friend is better to me then any cat could ever be, or any other dog for that matter.

Author's age when written
15
Genre