Miss Liberty II: In which I explain Duty and Civilization

Today's topic is duty. Few creatures other than cats understand duty. They confuse it with many other activities that have nothing to do with duty: work, paying bills, dying before your time, worrying about work, worrying about paying bills, worrying about dying before your time, you name it.

The fact of the matter is, we living beings have only a few real duties, and the more time spent doing only those real duties, the better. We cats excel, of course. (And believe it or not, dogs aren't bad.)

So here are the only duties we living beings have:

1. Eat
2. Drink
3. Sleep
4. Bathe
5. Play
6. Reproduce (optional)
7. Urinate
8. Defecate (humans call this "duty," both the act and the result).

So even *humans* understand on some level.

Of course, they are fascinated with duty (pardon my language, but this is the exact way humans put it – I've heard them many a time). Example: I carefully do my duty and then cover it; along comes a human to dig it out! Can't they see I buried it?

And have you ever seen them following a dog around in the city, waiting for the poor beast to do his duty so they can pick it up? Granted, dogs haven't the sense to cover their own duty (again, pardon the term), but to be so anal about getting the duty, examining it (it's duty, for heaven's sake! what are they trying to see?), putting it into a plastic bag and then throwing it into large round barrels along the street! I mean, really.

It's disgusting, but what is worse was the shape of humanity when cats first decided we would grace them with our presence. What savages they were! They didn't even realize their duty had a rather strong odor! (Granted, they are rather challenged as a species when it comes to their poor sense of smell, so perhaps they never noticed?)

Whatever. We cats *did* notice, and as is well known all over the feline world, this led to our civilizing humans.

For the fact is, when we began allowing them to serve us, they were nothing more than pack animals, barely better organized than feral dogs. They ranged from place to place, killing and eating, as even civilized beings would do. They had learned to control fire to some extent, which was a good trick as long as they didn't burn themselves. (We cats have no need for fire generally, but should we wish to have any, a human can be purrsuaded to provide it.) Having neither claws nor fangs to speak of, humans had to devise other means of killing, and in this they proved very clever.

But it was we cats who showed them by our sterling example that their duty stinks and that it should be disposed of properly. Over the centuries, our partnership has proved acceptable to us cats.

To you cats reading this, I recommend adopting a pair of grays if you are interested in acquiring the services of humans for your own needs. They will treat you very well, so long as you continue to cover your duty.

The photo atop this post is proof of that. It's the *litter box* my grays provided me. That's right: it's a litter box, a place for duty, and it's one fit for a Princess, which is only appropriate, considering, no? It was in place before I arrived. Best thing about it? No one can tell whether or not your duty stinks since the smell stays inside.

(No matter: I bury mine regardless. Good habit to keep just in case.)

This luxurious accommodation is known as the "Booda Dome Cleanstep Cat Box." Sells for under $30.

"Booda Dome." Remind you of anything? The Buddha perhaps? We cats also have a Buddha nature, though we do like to kill and eat things made of meat. That's just one more reason we teach the importance of burying one's waste.

Old Graybeard cleans it out everyday (told you humans are obsessed with duty!). Maybe your humans would like to get one for you? If so, have them click the picture below:



Now that's a great example of true civilization.