My cats rearrange the blanket to suit themselves on what I once thought was my bed and I must position myself just so or they’ll sit there with looks of slight annoyance on their faces. They wake me at 7 every morning demanding their breakfast and each must have their own bowls placed in their own specific places. At 7 I must turn off the a/c (Texas summers) off so the backdoor can be opened so they can wander in and out most of the day. Come mid day when us humans are sweltering in the hot Texas summer, the door gets shut and the a/c comes on. When they get too hot outside, they’ll meow at the door to be let in so they can snooze under the ceiling fan and the best a/c vent in the house. They let me know in no uncertain terms if their box needs cleaning and when the bottom of their food bowl starts to show. If their collars fall off, they bring them to me to put back on immediately. Dad’s shoes aren’t for putting on his feet but containers for the critters they bring in. Someone is up and down all afternoon and evening letting them in and out and in and out and in and out. Books, computers, sewing machine, newspaper, or whatever must be set aside for belly rubs and back scratches. When they come in at night, they line up on the coffee table demanding treats.
And then there’s the dogs.
Now, explain to me who’s the slave.
Dogs think: this person is feeding me. He must be god.
Cats think: this person is feeding me. I must be god.