Sinners and Tax Collectors

Sometimes prejudice catches you by surprise. Like it did just now, when my son was being inspected by our German shepherd, who seemed worried that during the school day, his fifteen-year-old human may have been cavorting on the sly with other canines.

“Roosevelt,” he tried to explain, “I haven’t been seeing any other dogs. I promise!”

Trying to be helpful, I piped up with, “Maybe you ran into people who had contact with another dog on them. You know, they smell like another dog? Or have dog hair on them that transferred, awakening Roosevelt’s concern?”

To which my husband replied, “Not a chance! All Damien’s friends are,” here he lowered his voice a couple of octaves, “CAT PEOPLE!”

Damien laughingly retorted, “Yeah. They’re sure not DOG PEOPLE.”

Though this should have reassured the dog, all it did was provoke further commentary from my husband, who told us, “Well, you know that Jesus told us we should associate with sinners and tax collectors.”

“If we HAVE to,” said our son.

But my husband wasn’t finished. “If a person is mean and cranky – probably a CAT PERSON. You work for the IRS? That means you’re almost certain to be a CAT PERSON. But since Jesus told us we have to be nice to everyone …”

I can’t help wondering what said CAT PEOPLE might be saying about us right about now. But, being a lovely and gracious DOG PERSON myself, you know I’m too kind to even go there.

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2 Responses to Sinners and Tax Collectors

  1. mitchteemley says:

    There ARE some DOG+CAT people out there (me among them ;>).

    • gwennonr says:

      Years ago, my husband and I hoped to make that conversion when a starving kitten rushed in from the cold one Sunday afternoon. A cat neighbor next door supplied us temporarily with food and a litter box, and our little girls and our dog all took the kitten right into their hearts. The younger girl used to snuggle the cat for hours at a time, while turning red in the face, breaking out in hives, and having trouble breathing. Even with constant bathing, which the kitten tolerated better than the dog, our allergies increased rather than decreased. Ten days later, we found a family who agreed to find our little “Gracie” a great home. The girls and I cried, and the dog, who had never before had children of her own, sank into a two-week depression we feared might never end. Thus, all hope of cat ownership died. Sigh! Because Gracie was a cat we could trust and hoped not to give up. That doesn’t happen very often to dog people.

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