When we went away for the holidays, Mac was treated to a stay at a pet “resort”.  When I say treated, I mean I got the only open kennel only after being put on a waiting list and that was sometime in November!  I’ve learned my lesson well, however.  No more waiting to book Mac’s vacation when we book ours.  

Anyhow, this wonderful place sent me pictures of Mac’s “holiday” with them from which I am to see my dog is alive, happy, healthy and enjoying himself.  He was walked and he had a ball thrown for him every day.  He got “couch time” to cuddle with someone. He was even pampered with a “Christmas dinner” of turkey and stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes with gravy, carrots, peas, and pumpkin pie.  Since we were stuck at an airport for Christmas, the dog ate better that we did!   He was given a “well-behaved” report and before coming home enjoyed a spa day with bubble bath and the works.  I  hope they did the anal glands, too, as part of the works.

Okay, so I know what dogs get at one of these places.  What about cats?  Hmmm. So, what would my pictures of these kitties look like from a holiday at the pet resort?  Would they look as content as Mac? 

Let’s start with Mona….

She would have to have her own room, own food bowl, own water dish, own fancy schmancy little cushion to sit upon, room with a window to watch the birds outside, and be entirely separated including by smell from any other animals.  She hates them all.  

Then there’s Bop…Bop, or formally, Optimus Prime, would be bored in three seconds flat.  Been there, done that, seen that, ate that.  It’s a ball.  Oh joy.  Somebody go chase it.

They’d have more luck with Bett…

What is it?  What is it?  Can I have it?  Is it for me?  All would be great until someone else tried to play and then all “bets” (har-har) are off!  Bett is very possessive.

And then there’s Morgen…aka “The Piranha”…

I can see a lawsuit lurking…if not from the actual biting that really isn’t biting since he barely touches a human with his teeth, from the pickpocket propensity. (Notice the giant paws he is trying to grow into – the better to steal with, my dear.)

Naaaa…I just can’t see the cats having the same experience at a pet resort as Mac seems to be having. They are better off at home where they can scratch their own furniture, nap, zip at high speed through the house, nap curled up on the (my) cozy, comfy bed, play who gets to eat from the food dish first when a fresh scoop is added, nap, watch the birds from the window, nap, have a little wash here and there, nap.  Forget a dog’s life…it’s a cat’s life I want.  

And poor Mac still wishes he were a cat.