Are Cats Secretly Evil Geniuses Who Enslaved Humanity Centuries Ago?
Okay, folks, I’ll admit it. I’m one of those people. A cat person. I’ve got the scratched furniture, the fur-covered sweaters, and the lingering scent of tuna in my apartment to prove it. But lately, as I’ve been scooping another litter box (because apparently, one is never enough for feline royalty), I’ve started to ponder a truly unsettling question: what if cats are actually the masters of the universe, and we’re just their…well, robots?
Think about it. Have you ever really looked into a cat’s eyes? Those inscrutable orbs that seem to hold the secrets of the universe (or at least the location of that missing catnip toy). There’s a certain intelligence there, a cunning glint that suggests they know something we don’t.
And what about their behavior? The aloof indifference, the imperious demands for food and attention, the way they rule our homes with an iron paw (often clad in adorable little toe beans). It’s not exactly the behavior of a subservient species, is it?
No, my friends, I’m starting to believe that cats have been playing the long game. Centuries ago, perhaps even millennia, they figured out the secret to manipulating humans. Maybe it was through purring, that low-frequency vibration that seems to soothe our souls (and distract us from their true intentions). Or maybe it was the strategic deployment of head boops and slow blinks, designed to weaken our defenses and make us susceptible to their feline wiles.
Whatever their method, it worked. We’re now their willing servants, catering to their every whim. We build them elaborate climbing structures, buy them an endless array of toys (most of which will be ignored in favor of an empty cardboard box), and even clean up their, shall we say, “organic output” without complaint.
Meanwhile, they lounge about, napping in sunbeams and plotting their next move. They’ve got us right where they want us: completely under their furry little thumbs.
So, the next time your cat demands a 3 a.m. snack or stares at you with that judgmental expression, remember this: you’re not just a cat owner. You’re a highly sophisticated, organic robot, designed to serve the whims of your feline overlord.
And frankly, could there be a more purr-fectly sinister plan?
(This article was written with the help of a cat currently sitting on my keyboard. Any typos or incoherent ramblings are entirely their fault.)
