"No house is complete without a dog. No room is complete without a cat."
There you have it, another opening paragraph that sounds just great until you actually think about it. And when we do actually think about it what do we find? We find that just a little something more is needed to make a coherent statement about even a small corner of civilization.
No house is complete without a dog? Excuse me, but I could count on the fingers of one hand the many, many houses that do not have dogs, yet wherein the occupants are doing just fine, thank you. No room is complete without a cat? Very well, but what about all those rooms that do not have a cat and yet are clearly lacking in nothing.
Perhaps our opening paragraph ought to read: "A dog marks a person with its personality. A cat imposes its personality upon the whole house, and not just upon one or more members of the household."
Folks, this is leading up to something, so please pay attention.
When you observe a human being in his or her daily doings what do you find? You find a lot of waiting, a lot of confusion, a lot of boredom, a lot of fits and starts, a lot of sitting and looking at something while "thinking," and a lot of activity, which, while not necessarily useless in its particulars, is nevertheless, as a whole, open to being seen as having little, or no, purpose.
But when you observe your cat or your dog what do you find? You find a creature who is always busy. You find a little friend in focus, a little amigo full of poise and purpose. Maybe he or she is sniffing something new, or walking about the environs clearly looking for something, or stopping at a place to eat something, or any of a number of other acts that add up together to one very big important thing: your cat or your dog -- this is profound -- always knows what to do next. About what other resident of our cosmos can any such thing be said?
Folks, I gotta say it one more time: Your cat and your dog always know exactly what to do next.