Dwight never understood cat people.
Which is to say, he didn't understand people letting house cats live with them. He completely understood that movie where Malcolm McDowell turned into a giant cat and started killing people. Now there was a movie that was relevant in the real world.
But the idea of bringing some furry creature to live one's own home? It wasn't like they were snakes or lizards where the interest was immediately obvious, these were real mammals. And why were some animals welcomed into the home with open arms while others were treated as hostile invaders? Why not see cats and dogs as the enormous rats Dwight recognized them as?
It all seemed so alien to him.
Still, when he began his relationship with Angela, he knew he would have to deal with her love of the mewling vermin little sooner or later and today was as good a day as any.
He approached her favorite beast (cautiously lest it go off unexpected), a great heaving black and white mottled creature called Mr. Mittens. Dwight put his face close to the cat's, looking it in the eye so that the egotistical monster would know it was dealing with an intellectual equal.
"I am going to pet you," Dwight informed the cat with cold venom. "Please remain completely motionless during the act."
Dwight reached his hand out to touch the cat... and Mr. Mittens reared up, hissed, and struck at Dwight with such fury that had he not been wearing his glasses he might have been blinded for life.
Dwight raised an impressed half-smile. "Congratulations, cat. You have earned my respect."
Mr. Mittens will be back in "A Clockwork Beet."