LicensureJuly 2005
I don’t like dogs.
I mean, I have nothing against them as a species, but personally, they just don’t do much for me, not any more. They’re too easily distracted, and they spread their affection around without a thought for how it might make a person feel. I mean, for God’s sake, you have to put a collar and a license on them to make sure they get home if they run off!
Cats now, they’re much more likable in my book. Smart, arrogant, aloof when they want to be but also capable of cuddling; cats are a perfect design. You can let them wander, but they always come home because they remember where home is.
If I were an animal, I’d want to be a cat, and I’d be a damn good one; not one of those scruffy alley cats or pampered, preening lap pets. Nothing fancy, not even a pure bred; those have all the brains bred out of them. A simple calico. No, black, I’d want to be black, black with green eyes and an extra toe on one hind foot.
Forget all that superstitious nonsense about black cats being bad luck; I mean, my God, no one ever had a fit because their path was crossed by a black dog, did they? A black dog... that would be Major Sheppard. Something like a lab: friendly, but a good hunter and much, much too affectionate for my good. Everyone loves labs; everyone wants to take them home, and they enjoy it.
I hate dogs; never mind that they can be warm and loving and wonderful to curl up with. It’s just, collars and licenses and all the care they take... It’s too much. I’ll get distracted or yell, and then I’ll look up, and he’ll be gone.
It. It would be gone, and no one would know where to return it.
Unless... I can’t do anything about the distraction or the yelling, but I can make damn sure he’d be returned.
I need to go talk to Holling about the leatherwork and to Castleman; he’s always fiddling around with metal.
Yes.
This is going to work.
since 02-04-07
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