Cats are not dogs, and this comes as a surprise to many people who conclude that cats make terrible dogs. 

Take Louie, for example. Uncle Louie is my cat. He is a tiny, solitary predator. He is also a little fuzzy baby who loves his person. These things are not mutually exclusive, but they can be disconcerting to someone who prefers the pack-oriented and gloriously enthusiastic dog. 

I can see the confusion; cats, like dogs, choose to share their lives with human beings, will sleep with you at night, and are very positive about food. They like to play, and they like petting. They occasionally bite. All very dog-like in the aggregate, and very unlike, say, goldfish. 

But if you think you can pet a cat like a dog, you are sadly deluded. When a dog lies on its back, it is saying, “Ooh, pet my belly.” When a cat does the same, it is saying, “I trust you NOT to pet my belly, Jesus, no, please, don’t pet my belly, what is wrong with you.” It will then grab you with all four sets of claws and bite the hell out of you because for most cats, a hand to the belly means it is about to lose all its internal organs. Dog-lovers think this means cats are untrustworthy. No, it’s the human who is being untrustworthy. Leave that belly alone. 

As for biting, Louie will also demand a very long session of having his head scratched, and then will turn his head and take my forearm in his teeth. He is a good boy, so he doesn’t stick holes in me, just holds my hand, gently, until I stop. He has taught me the signs that he is about to do that, so it rarely happens. Dogs will happily let you scratch their ears forever, but cats get overstimulated by too much petting, and then they can’t help themselves. The cat is not being unpredictable when it bites you. It’s just not being a dog. 

Cats are obligate carnivores. They have to eat a diet that is mostly meat or meat-like. Dogs are omnivores; they eat like humans, and enjoy human food. It would be abusive to give Louie a vegetarian diet. I feel bad for the chickens and cows that die to feed my little flesh-eater, but I can’t hold it against him. 

A dog needs to be walked. A cat does not. You can train a cat to walk on a leash, but I am very happy not to do any such thing.

Cats do wag their tails, but tail lashing in a cat indicates that it is upset. They do pant, but it means something is wrong and you should probably call the veterinarian.

One persistent misunderstanding, shared by many cat persons as well as dog people, is that cats are happy when they purr. Yes, they purr when they are content, but also when they’re upset or frightened, too. I suspect purring means they want to be comforted. 

People often feel that cats disapprove of them. In this, they are somewhat correct. Louie often sits in my lap purring but also lashing his tail, because (a) I am not petting him correctly, (b) he wants to take my chair  from me, (c) I should be playing with him, or (d) I should be feeding him again.

That’s why I call him Uncle Louie, because yes, at some level he disapproves of me, like an elderly uncle who has no patience for shenanigans. See, cats expect you to know what you are supposed to do. Dogs, on the other hand, have moderately low expectations, and so will try to teach you to do what they want.

A cat will get in a stranger’s lap, though, while still disapproving. Many people who don’t like cats think this means the cat is tormenting them. No, the cat is (a) attracted to you because, you are not making a damn fuss over it, as if it was a dog (b) giving you a chance to redeem yourself. 

And the most important thing about cats, which people who like dogs do not understand, is that cat expressions are mostly not in their faces, but in their bodies and their actions. Their faces have forward-facing predator eyes, like human beings (and like owls), but unlike in humans, the cat’s expression is fixed and intent, because the skin is tight across the skull. Dog people, at least dog people from societies where a mobile expression is considered a sign of friendliness and openness, therefore conclude cats are sneaky. Cold. Untrustworthy.

No, cats are only about as sneaky as dogs are. Less so.

For the most part, cats are engaging little derps who think you are probably their mommy. 

As I write this, Louie is lying in the top of his cat tree next to the window. His head is tucked into his front paws, and he is hugging himself. He has been fed, he has been petted, and he is very happy that I am there. All is good in Louie’s world, until I leave the house, whereupon (I know this because I have checked), he will cry for a few minutes. He will disapprove deeply. He will stare out the window, waiting for me to come home. 

And then, he will go back to sleep, until I return. He will not wreck the house. He will not howl or bark. He will not scratch holes in the wallboard like one dog I grew up with, or turn on all the taps in the bathroom. He will just make the world go away for a while, peacefully, until he hears the key in the lock, and then he will awaken and be glad.