If you really want to sexually attract the kind of women you’ve always wanted, and keep them sexually attracted to you, you must understand that women are like cats, and men are like dogs. Dogs on the other hand, are very loyal and always are at your side no matter what. They do what they want, when they want and with who they want.Dogs will do what they are told such as: sit, lay down, roll over, etc.

dating girls with cats-30

They usually are not good at reading between the lines to figure out what a woman is really trying to say to them.

When a woman is in a relationship with a man who does not understand women, she has a choice.

She can either tell him in a logical way and with step-by-step instructions what she wants and how she wants to be treated, or she can become single again until she finds a man who does understand women. The average man is too lazy and egocentric to admit they need help with women.

is, in most part, a response to Brian Donovan, the man who made confessions about being a male cat owner over at Thought Catalog. She usually slept with me and when she spotted the stuffed animal, she went into a jealous fit, refusing to make eye contact with me, refusing to lick my hand. I literally had to throw the stuffed animal in the garbage can before Mandy would acknowledge me again. This happens to me a lot, where I feel like the dog and I “get” each other. I am averse to having pet hair of any kind on my clothing. Chances are, if I can’t leave your apartment without looking like I rolled around in a pile of pet hair, I’m not going to want to frequent your place. The worst being the guy who told me that the only reason he would want a relationship is to have someone to watch TV with at the end of a long day. Sometimes (rarely, but SOMETIMES) I think cats are cute. My co-worker Julie has a very fat cat named Colonel Mustard and I kind of like him.

Let me start by saying, Brian, you sound like an incredibly kind and thoughtful guy. I am one of the girls you speak of, the kind who cocks her head sideways and looks at you as if you’ve just revealed that you were a fat kid (so was I! You’re right, I do see male cat ownership as a “preexisting condition.” One not conducive to me dating you. I don’t find you creepy or feminine (or, I’m sure I wouldn’t if we met in person). Then he followed that up with, “But that’s what my cat is for.” There were other terribly unsettling things he did, but I am focusing on cat ownership for now. Another one of the cat guys displayed affection to his cat way too soon in the relationship.

I’m glad you had the courage to come out of the closet as a male cat owner. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you whatsoever. My friends seem to find my dislike of cats humorous. After a few dates, I agreed to go to his place for a drink. I knew that the cat would be there logically, but I wasn’t prepared for it emotionally. They joke that I will end up marrying a man with tons of cats and proudly scoop litter for all eternity. When the cat jumped on his lap and he started kissing and stroking and purring at his kitty, I couldn’t handle it. The reasons why I am thoroughly incompatible with male cat owners … My parents got me a stuffed animal, it was a dog, and Mandy was jealous. The only thing that overrides my canine preferences is if I feel like I have a spiritual connection to a dog. I was trying to be really open minded but it was a disaster. Her name was Mandy, and she was a fluffy, white Bischon Frise. I made up a song for her whenever I would give her treats. Mandy and I only got into one fight in our years together. My dad decided to have her put down when I was a freshman in college. The truth is: I’m not ready to get attached to another animal — dog or cat. I prefer small to medium dogs with a high fluff to face ratio, but not those toy dogs or ones that look like mini ponies. I can smell the litter box even if you have it hidden away. After my third visit, the doctor asked if I had been sharing a pillow with a cat. The takeaway here is that forever in my psyche, pink eye-like symptoms, cat allergies and a boyfriend I need to dump are all rolled together into one neat pellet of associative discomfort. As if to reinforce my discomfort, a few years ago, I went on a series of dates with guys that all had cats. I only like dogs who meet the following criteria: A) Have non-smelly breath, B) Don’t shed and C) Don’t bark too much. And I spent a fair share of time visiting the eye doctor with chronic pink eye. I had to stop going over to my boyfriend’s house, which was fine because I was leaving for college and wanted to break up with him anyway. I am what you would traditionally consider a dog person. Sometimes I like their dogs, and sometimes I only pretend to like them. We spent our fair share of time rolling around on his bed. I am not going to get into too much detail, but my grandmother was mentally ill. To me, owning a cat would put me one step closer to being crazy.