The Only Good Cat...

...Is a dead one.
This philosophy springs from several points.
1) My dad hates cats, and little kids always hate the things dad hates...
2) I'm allergic to them
3) They are the dirtiest animals out there. They kill for pleasure, a good portion of the population is allergic to their dander, their claws are dirty too, from which you get cat scratch fever, and, AND, if you don't clean up their shit it can KILL YOU.

Now there is another reason for me to hate cats, as of Saturday night. I didn't go to sleep until something like 6:00 am. When I finally do, I am awakened by a cat landing on my head.
Now, I knew it was a cat, because its shape was distinct on the outside of the tent. so i push it away and go back to sleep.
Whump! A cat lands on my head again. I push it off and roll over. A few minutes later the cat starts playing with my fingers, which are above my head, like a piano. I roll back over.
Whump.
A little miffed at this point, and hurt that the powers that be have allowed the same cat to land on my head three times while all I'm trying to do is sleep, I punch the damn thing off the outside of the tent.
The problem is, I'm awake at this point. With three hours of sleep, i felt like Ren from Ren And Stimpy: In The Army Now, where Ren is marching all night, gets back to the barracks and says, "now, all i need are 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep."
Two seconds later revelry goes off.
He's in a daze, looks to the bed, laughs maniacally and chops up the bed with an axe from Hammer Space.
So outside the tent, the cat is walking away from the tent, casting hateful looks my way.
I barked at it and chased it around a corner before I headed in for breakfast.

I am not a morning person, and there was a large rock under me all night.
So naturally I hate cats.