We ask so much of our cats. We leave them alone all day with nothing to do, thrust unwanted companions on them, lay down ever-changing rules and force them to adjust their schedules to coincide with our more convenient ones. We don't walk them and then insist they a litter box that often falls way below their standard of cleanliness. We're positive that the motivation behind their furniture scratching is willful destruction, because there's a scratching post somewhere in the house -- oh yeah, it's in the laundry room (so what if that's also where the dog sleeps). We spank our cats and then don't understand why they're defensive. We yell at them and then act surprised when they no longer want to be around us. We rub their noses in their messes because somebody somewhere told us that's the way to train a pet. We punish our cats when we come home from work at night for something they did earlier in the day -- it doesn't matter that the cat is now peacefully sleeping in his bed -- he'll *know* why he's being yelled at. We play with our cats when it's convenient but push them away if they playfully bat at the newspaper we're trying to read. We treat our cats as children, adults, friends, enemies, confidants, even dogs -- but not often enough as *cats*. Finally, we think our cats should *know better*, when in reality, *we're* the ones who should.