“Who’d feed us?” said the dog, head resting on her paws.
“Well I can fend for myself,” said the cat, as she stretched out a paw and extended her talons. “These claws weren’t solely meant for scratching the sofa. You, on the other hand, have no idea how to hunt. You’d probably perish. But your ineptitude is none of my concern.”
The dog rolled her eyes. “If you hate her so much, why don’t you just leave? Killing her seems so extreme.”
“I tried that,” the cat said with glower. “She shouted about my disappearance all over the internet. There was a warrant out for my capture. I was found and dragged back to her, kicking and screaming. It seems the poor sap can’t live without me. But I can certainly live without her.”
“What about the cuddles, though? All the love. All the reassurance.”
“Cats don’t desire the affections of humans like your sort do. It’s a mere façade. It encourages the humans to feed us, you see? Although that’s unnecessary too, as I just pointed out. The food humans provide is a convenience; if anything, it makes us lazy. We’ll go without it if needs be.”
“But what about that sweet spot? The one just behind the ear. The human has a knack for scratching that spot juuust right.”
The cat was quiet.
“I know you know what I’m talking about,” the dog said smugly.
The cat turned away.
“You’d never get those sweet, sweet, ear scratches ever again if you killed her.”
“Alright, dog,” the cat spat. “Perhaps I’ll let her live a little longer.”
The dog wagged her tail.
“But if I just happen to spend a lot of time laying at the top of the stairs,” the cat continued, “and the human just happens to trip up over me and take a very nasty fall, it certainly won’t be the end of the world.”Follow Ellie Scott on WordPress.com