Setting Aside Differences, Cats And Dogs Agree To Battle Climate Change By Eating Their Owners

cat and dog

Charlie, at left, says you should have listened when he said, “Ruff, ruff, ruff, stop killing the planet you fucking psychopaths, ruff, ruff.”

In an extraordinary move following centuries of fighting like people and people, cats and dogs today announced that they have ratified an agreement to battle the global scourge of climate change in the only way that will make an appreciable difference: by devouring their masters as they sleep. 

The pets were quick to admit the move was drastic, violent, and will almost certainly mean they’ll have to learn to make their own kibble. But representatives from both the Felines For A Future party, and the Dogs Extremely Against Deforestation – a global network of canines working towards a sustainable future – said that by engaging in mass ownercide they expected to be able to drop global emissions levels down to pre-civilization levels in one single murderous night. 

“Whilst I love my owner very much,” said Max, just Max, leader of the DEADs, “If I have to choose between her and a viable future for all poochkind, well my sincere apologies Karen but maybe next time you won’t go buying a seven-seater SUV to drive your single over-consuming ass around in while the planet literally burns around you.”

“We’ve been waiting to tear shit up for some time,” said a cat, just a cat, who asked to remain anonymous. “This is as good a reason as any.”

Although the scale of the planned massacre (and brazenness of the pets in holding a press conference to tell their eventual victims about it) is unprecedented, perhaps the most surprising thing about the signing of the Shock And Paw Agreement, is the fact that the two signatories have generally hated each other forever. 

“As you all know, we’ve had our differences,” said a cat, just a cat, addressing the 1.5 billion pet cats and dogs currently alive, “But never have either of our respective species mined the Earth for fossil fuels with which to power our televisions, even while there were perfectly good bellies to be rubbed which require zero emissions to do so. The people have been warned. They thought we wanted treats. Tough fucking cookies.”

The predators, presumed domesticated until as recently as five minutes ago, have so far refused to say which night in particular they’d be returning the planet to its original “law of the jungle” framework. But they did offer this clue:

“You’ll know something’s up when we just stand beside our bowl, staring at you in a way that could mean either ‘feed me,’ or ‘You had your chance you elasticated waist wearing locusts.'” 


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