I say almost because I've been bitten once and chased at least twice by punk dogs. Still, they're cool, most of them, and I wish I could own one or 10.

Cats, on the other hand, I've always had a mix of results with. I like many of them, but they certainly don't inspire like dogs do. Still, I find myself surrounded by cats. My sister always had cats around her house when I was a kid. She's much older than I am, and a visit to her place meant mingling with her dog and cats, both house and strays.

Today, she and my nephew have two house cats, Joey and Cody. Joey is a surly, former street cat. A Siamese that is the walking definition of a "scaredy cat." And yet, he has his appeal. Most of the time, though, he'd rather be left alone, and when his mommy/woman (my sister) gets home late at night, he's the first one at the door. That normally leads to him begging for human food, especially chicken. A total manipulator, but he's good at it. It shows. He's one of the fattest felines I've ever seen.

Cody, who is three years younger, was never a true street cat like Joey (who was on the street as a kitten). Cody is a blackish-gray cat, slender and quick, which comes in handy when Joey gets into his bullying mode. Cody is far more fun, loves to interact with people (he knows) and loves a good scratch under his chin or on his belly. He actually will lie down and flop from one side to the next so that you can't help but go pet him.

About six months ago, both cats were showing more signs of energy. You might call it hyperactivity. Joey had already gone through a phase of pissing all over the walls, all over my sister's desk and paperwork. That was when they lived in another house and at least one stray cat was often wandering into the garage. Put 2 an 2 together, and Joey was merely marking his turf as all aggressive Type A cats do.

A consistent dose of discipline got Joey to quit peeing all over creation. Cody, fortunately, never picked up the bad habits of his older buddy. Then my sister and nephew moved into a new neighborhood. She became attached to a stray, a scraggy, skinny teen with light orange fur. They named him Yang. To me, he was just a street cat who came around only when he was hungry. Because they fed him right outside the front door, Joey was constantly staring at his new enemy and his old, aggressive behavior returned.

My sister is not much for discipline, so guess who had to get Joey to stop scratching (almost) everyone in the house. Yep. Me. So Joey eased up on the punky behavior, but the solution I came up regarding Yang worked much better. Instead of feeding him so close to the front door (and the windows), we fed him outside the gate. It was just a few feet away, but that wooden gate separated Yang from the house cats and he took the message. Yang learned to stay outside in the driveway, and he would still have his meals.

That was months ago. Now, Yang comes back to eat, is willing to be pet, but gets in fights almost every night. The past few weeks have been the worst. His right eye is based and scratched so badly that he can't open it most times. He looks like Rocky Balboa.

During that time, I convinced my sister to allow the house cats to leave the house during the day time. That quelled their constant staring-out-the-window behavior. Joey, in particular, needed to get outside far more. So far, it's worked out. They stay out of fights and return to the front door by sundown — mostly because they're hungry, I know. But they like indoor living enough. There are times when I'm here in mid-day and neither wants out no matter how long I leave the front door open. They have it good. Joey especially loves to sleep on my nephew's bed while he's at school. Typical fat cat.

Joey did get into a fight out there once, but that hasn't happened again since. He's paranoid by nature, so I imagine he runs more than he battles. Cody, for all his precociousness, gives Yang an occasional hiss when they cross paths.

Things have been a little complicated outside the house lately. At least four other cats have been hanging around. One is a white cat with some orange patches on the top of his head. Another is similar to Cody: black and gray. There's an all-orange cat. And there's another Siamese, very similar to Joey, who we found dead in the back yard two weeks ago. No scratches, no cuts, no sign of injury. It was just on its side, dead.

The Humane Society pickup is only on Saturdays, so my sister left it there for two days. It had a collar and I took several pictures. I wonder who it belonged to.

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