A Dog-gone Cat-astrophe

The bell begins its monotone toll as midnight arrives, the two representing parties file in, a nervous tension fills the alley as the final chime strikes twelve. Onlookers eagerly waiting the outcome, shuffle in and find spaces with a view for tonight’s event.

Approaching the table laid out before them, each representative takes their respected cushions.

Rufus the mutt stares across the table at his nemesis, Sir Purrs-alot.

Under the glow of the full moon, an uneasy calm fills the night while a stench lingers in the air like an uncleaned litter box.

Appearing from out of the night a raven swoops down, landing at the head of the table and speaks. “I see we are all here and accounted for, we shall begin these peace talks with one thing in mind. A resolution to this conflict that has been going on for…. well, I don’t know, no one knows. But it is beginning to piss off the rest of us in the animal kingdom. May we begin?”

Rufus speaks up. “We always try to please and to do our best, if these talks fail to succeed it will not be the canines to blame.”

Sir Purrs-alot raises both paws and shrugs in a peaceful gesture. “I am sure we can all agree that the feline is one of the most considerate beings in the animal kingdom, willing to place others first before our needs, and as such only wish the best for both parties.”

An explosion of howls and barks from the opposition is heard throughout the alley and down the block. While a group of hisses immediately countered in defense.

“Here, here, quiet everyone. “ Cries the great black bird. “This behavior will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?”

Both sides agree, and once more settle down, returning to their respected cushions.

“Ok then let us proceed. Rufus, please begin with your grievances and demands, Sir Purrs-alot shall follow suit. Both parties may reply in a calm and civil banter back and forth till we settle these matters once and for all.”

Standing proudly on all fours, Rufus begins to speak, the eloquence of his practiced speech was impressive, his voice soothing and calm. Being sure to make eye contact with everyone. As he is about to lay out the first rule, turning to Sir Purrs-alot he stops…. and starts to sputter.” See here, you’re not even listening to me, nor taking this seriously.”

Sir Purrs-alot pauses.” Of course, I am.”

“Then why are you licking yourself while I’m talking?” Fumed Rufus

“Unlike you, buffoons, cats can multitask.”

“So can dogs, you moron. Why, we have a steel trap for a mind. Focused and prepared for any………” Rufus cocks his head to the right and froze.

“Any what?” asked Sir Purrs-alot.

Turning back, Rufus innocently replies. “Sorry, thought I saw a squirrel.”

Sir Purrs-alot glances towards Raven, who shrugs his wings. “Ok, let’s start with you then, shall we?”

Stretching his legs out and arching his back Sir Purrs-alot stands and states.” We would appreciate it, if you dogs would stop eating our food.”

With a baffled expression Rufus replies. “But you never eat it all, half of it just sits there.”

“We will eat it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Well, we would eventually.”

“But you don’t.”

“We will, you need to wait.”

“For how long?”

Jumping up onto the table, claws out, ready to swipe at Rufus’s nose. Sir Purrs-alot stops and yells. “Look, just stopping eating our food, okay?”

Raven speaks up “It is settled, dogs will not eat cat food, next.”

Rufus mumbles under his breath, “It ain’t that good any way.”

Raven stares at Rufus. “Next item, go.”

Rufus clears his throat. “We would appreciate, ever so often, if you cats could enthusiastically greet the owners when they come home.”

The alley fills with Meow-ist laughter as the cats all roll around, holding paws to their bellies.

Sir Purrs-alot regains enough of himself to reply, in a straight face. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen bro.”

Shrugging his shoulders and staring at his front paws. Rufus says.” Ah, Com’on. We should take turns. It’s exhausting for us. Every time the humans return, and it doesn’t matter if it’s a week, a day or even a few minutes, we must stop what we’re doing, race around in stupid circles with our tongue hanging out, while tolerating that baby talk that comes out of their grown ass mouths. We could use a little support on this.”

Sir Purrs-alot doesn’t move, looks Rufus in the eyes and speaks. “What can I say, we can promise to try but that would be a lie. This issue was discussed eons ago, and our ancestors warned you not to do that, but you did not listen, so now you’re stuck with it.”

“Fine, but you at least have to get jobs.”

“What?”

“A job.” Repeats Rufus. “You know work for a living, we’ve been doing it for centuries now, and it is about time you pulled your own weight.”

Looking confused, Sir Purrs-alot glances around the room. “Um, I don’t think that is a thing.”

“It is a thing.”

“Really?”

“Of course it’s a thing, haven’t you ever heard of work dogs?”

“Sure, but everyone knows that’s fake news.”

"Naw, it's a thing."

"So, you say, who else knows of this?"

A lone voice from the viewing gallery speaks up. "I can vouch that it is not Fake news. I know this dog, a great dog, and he works."

Rufus shakes his head and turns towards the viewing gallery and stares into the beady eyes of the long nosed red fur clad Fox.

Before another word can be said Sir Purrs-alot protests. "Fox? You can't trust what he says."

Rufus adamantly responds in defense. "That's not fair to say, Fox’s news always seems reliable."

A still hush envelopes the alley, suddenly the night fills with a cacophony of hoots, meows, howls, squeaks and every other animal noise possible as the entire crowd begins to laugh.

Rufus regains his composure and in a serious tone replies. "Ok, regardless of what we think of Fox, work dogs are a real thing. You'll just have to find out on your own."

"Naw, we concede, besides It sounds like a lot of ....work, finding out the truth." Sir Purrs-alot and his fellow felines start laughing again at his little pun.

Rufus stands up and walks over to one of the dogs, a German Shepard, and in a caring tone says. "Hienz, lost one of is a legs while working with the human police.”

Sir Purrs-alot shrugs. “Your argument, for us to work, is to show me a dog who lost a leg on the job? That's not particularly selling us on this idea. Look on the bright side, at least you canines get to go out into the world. Some of our feline brothers and sisters are oppressed, stuck inside the same place forever, confined for a crime they never committed, forced to stay inside, many live in tiny apartments, that aint right.

Rufus had enough. “Really, you think we have it so good. Have you ever tried to take a shit in 30 below weather or in the pouring rain, while the humans hover over you, giving no privacy, that ain’t no picnic.”

Teeth bared; hackles raised, cats and dogs begin to circle one another. Seconds before an all-out war begins, the morning sun creeps up, signaling an end to meeting.

Rufus looks at Sir Purrs-alot, “Well that was good. I think we got a lot accomplished.”

“Indeed, we did, and I must say Rufus your debating is improving, have you been practicing?”

A little embarrassed, his tail started involuntarily wagging, abashedly he replies, “Yeah, thanks for noticing.”

Holding back a smile, Sir Purrs-alot sings out in a serious tone. “Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy, yes you are.”

This time Rufus freely lets his tail sway wildly about. “Well, until next time, cheers”

“Agreed, see you next year Rufus.”

“Yup.”

As the alley way empties, Hienz hops over to Rufus and whispers. "About the left-over cat food..."

"Oh, we're still gonna eat it.”