Humans love analogies. That's why my book (my theoretical book) is going to make a killing. I have broken all people down into four different categories. In a perfect world, there would only be two kinds of people (because we've heard that phrase so many times, and we like it). But I am going beyond the whole "There are winners and there are losers" mentality. I'm taking it even further in evolution. Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? Step aside. My analogy bypasses gender, race, and even human DNA.

Cats and dogs, people.
And cats who act like dogs.
And dogs who act like cats.

'Nuff said.

I am a dog. I am a tongue rolling, tail wagging, oh-scratch-me-right-there-and-I'll-kill-for-you kinda gal. I am loyal to a fault, obedient except when I haven't been given enough playtime or attention, and will protect my loved ones with great big bites and yelps. The only time I compromise others' honor is when someone dangles a tasty treat in front of my face. I am easy to please (coffee, much?) and believe in people.

My husband is a cat. He is a great floppy Maine Coon. He really likes other people, sure. He's awfully easy-going. But he knows what he knows, and that's all he needs. He is independent and will flip the rest of the world off if the world isn't doing things the right way. Michael asserts himself and his boundaries through body language. He practically oozes disdain for anyone who does not meet his expectations. Now, granted, his expectations are merely standards in morality. Pretty much, if you smile and don't lie, Michael will like you. But if you're a womanizing asshole (yeah, you, frat boy across the street), he won't piss on your teeth if your mouth was on fire. That's right. I said piss.

I know someone who is a cat, but acts like a dog. She's actually one of the worst kind of cats--a Siamese (like Delilah). She's selfish and moody and anxious and brooding, but she only lets her closest members in on that part of her personality. The rest of the time, she is a dog. A Golden Retriever, at that. She is loved in the community and is often held to a greater standard than you or I or June Cleaver. Stay clear of cats who act like dogs.

And then, that leaves us with dogs who act like cats. These are the Chihuahuas of the bunch. Independent, yes. But self-serving? No. I think dogs who act like cats make the best leaders, because they are able to determine where real threats lay. They don't sweat the small stuff, and they are loyal, but also able to distance themselves from flattery (unlike myself).

You see, I'm on to something!

For those of you enabling puppy dogs who are always looking for a scratch around the ears, be careful whose dirty fingernails are hooking under your collar and tugging you away from your safe yard.

And for you cats? Take it easy on us dogs. We're just trying to get a bone.