I am surprised at myself. I am actually participating in a chatty dog blog called Chet the Dog.
Of course, this is the Librarian's fault as per usual. She would read those mysteries and laugh out loud and mutter to herself, i.e.: "Oh no! Don't do that!" or "Get'em Chet! Atta boy!" Harumph. About a dog. She never did that when she read those Cat mysteries...she did not appear to be entertained. After all, I must admit:
Cats do not run all over the desert;
Cats cannot leap at the perpetrators' throats (and threaten to tear them out, even. Egad.)
Cats can't smell as much - oops, I mean as well - as dogs.
But if I can be allowed to make a case for Cats:
A Cat could distract the perpetrator, by running between his/her legs, scratching, or a loud yowl at the right time:
A Cat could pee on something, rendering it unusable (or at least thoroughly disgusting). This would be helpful in disarming weaponry, for instance:
A Cat can eat grass and puke next to a pertinent clue....
Oh Holy (Furry) Balls. I cannot believe I am even discussing this.
The odd part is...I don't mind the dogs (except they talk too much). I might even grow fond of a dog who thinks he is Henry the VIII and thus wears a ruff.
When I think about being a Cat detective, I believe I would be more of the Sam Spade type: moody, given to terse statements, a real loner. Hmmmm. I shall direct the Librarian to find a Kitty Fedora and practice meowing out of the corner of my mouth.
Er, no. Mweowww. Better.
Mwwwwwwow. Mwwwwow. Well, this is exhausting. But there - it's time for my nap anyway.