Actor John O'Hurley hosts the National Dog Show, airing on NBC on Thanksgiving Day.
If recent history serves as an accurate guideline, some 20 million Americans will watch the National Dog Show Thursday.
Okay, the title sounds a little self-glorifying. But that’s a good-size crowd, which proves it was a brilliant idea for NBC to tuck a dog show in between the Macy’s parade and the afternoon football games on Thanksgiving Day, from noon to 2 p.m.
But what it really proves is that the best ideas are often the simplest. On a day when the TV set is the soundtrack and videotrack to millions of family gatherings, what makes more sense than to parade two hours of cute dogs across the screen?
And that brings us to another simple truth: that dogs are the best pets ever.
Yeah, better than cats.
Way better than cats.
Why? That’s simple, too. Because dogs like you.
Dogs wag their tails, jump on you, make happy noises, lick your face. Dogs were twerking before Miley Cyrus was born.
Most cats, in contrast, barely look up when you enter the room, unless it’s to briefly wonder what you’re doing here.
They couldn’t care less. Their only interest is whether you’re blocking the sunlight in which they were sleeping.
This doesn’t make your cat a bad person. This just makes your cat a cat. They’re independent. You are a marginal presence who occasionally drifts in or out.
If you’ve had a miserable day at work, or have broken up with someone, or gotten a bad phone call, or have just done something really stupid, your dog still likes you. Your dog wants you to feel better.
Your cat doesn’t care.
Truth is, dogs never have a bad day. They’re always convinced the next thing that happens will be a good thing. Who doesn’t need some of that in their lives?
With cats, who can tell? How do you know if cats are having a good or a bad day? None of your business, pal.
Now right about this time several people will raise their hands and say they have a cat that’s demonstrative and totally affectionate, that curls up with them and purrs seductively when you stroke its fur.
And that just confirms what I’m saying — because at that point you no longer have a cat. You have a dog.
Everything you like about that cat’s behavior is, in fact, dog behavior.
You can train a dog. Companion dogs or Seeing Eye dogs do amazing things.
There’s a reason there are no Seeing Eye cats, and a reason volunteer groups rarely bring cats to nursing homes or recovery wards to cheer up the patients. Again, it’s not the cat’s fault. By genetic inheritance, those are just tasks that don’t interest them.
You can look at a cat and say, hmmm, that’s a good-looking animal. You look at a dog and think, hmmm, that’s a good-looking animal that’s also my friend. That’s why 20 million people will tune in on Thursday.
On the day after Thanksgiving, incidentally, the National Geographic channel kicks off its annual “Big Cat Week.”
It’s not quite Shark Week yet, but it’s got some cool programs — partly because there’s no pretense that any of these big cats is a pet. They’re out on their own, like all cats want to be, running down a zebra for dinner.
When I see those scenes, I’m reminded of the times cat owners have told me they know their cat is devoted to them because every so often the cat leaves a dead mouse, or a dead chipmunk, on the doorstep.
They say it’s a present. I always wonder if it’s more like the horse’s head in “The Godfather.”
Give me a sure thing. Give me a dog.
dhinckley@nydailynews.com
Show Konversi KodeHide Konversi Kode Show EmoticonHide Emoticon