“His work has translated so well in so many other mediums,” Ms. Bey said. “I really liked that it was not only good on the page, it makes great movies, I mean, really really great movies.”

--Isisara Bey, as quoted in The New York Times, on Stephen King
receiving the National Book Award

The thing I like best about my dog is that he makes a really, really great cat. Even though he’s a German Shepherd, he’s figured out how to balance on a windowsill and watch the birds. At first I was like, why don’t we just get a cat? But that seemed a little obvious, a little dead-ahead. What’s the big deal about a good cat being a good cat? But a good dog who can also be a good cat, well that’s a party trick. And it’s a damn sight better than making your ears wiggle or doing that dopey Donald Duck voice.

But Whiskers, that’s my dog, has even figured out how to use the litter box. He sort of looks like Dumbo balancing on the circus ball, but I swear to God, he keeps it in the box, and even does that scratchy thing for about an hour afterwards where you’re like “enough already.” He can roll around on his back with a ball of yarn for hours, although it does get a little slobbery. Not only that, but he’s figured out how to purr, which makes you feel good, even though it sounds like a Harley pulling into the driveway. We tried giving him a catnip mouse, which totally worked, but he went a little too crazy and broke a ceramic lamp. There are some size issues.

What happens when Whiskers sees a cat in his yard? (Another cat, if you will?) He swishes his tail in annoyance. Yes swishes. Not wags. And the visiting cat departs with a swish of her tail, like a sorority girl who’s just seen someone wearing the same dress at a party. She’s not chased off; she’s snubbed. Total cat stuff.

What happens, you might ask, when he sees another dog? Well, the dog part of Whiskers does that dog psych-out thing where they crouch on their bellies before they pounce, but the cat part makes him hiss and arch his back and slice the air with his claws. Which freaks the other dog out. The other dog is thinking like, “Wo…is this a dog? Is this a cat? What’s up with this dog-cat?” and goes back to catching the Frisbee. So Whiskers gets a little lonely, and could use a little cheering up, which is why I’m hoping against hope that he gets this National Dog Award.

But some nay-sayer on the committee is bound to ask, “But is he a good dog?” To which I reply, millions of people love him, and if that’s not a dog, what is? They take him to the beach, they take him…well basically everywhere you can take a dog. Well okay maybe not millions, but a lot of people in the neighborhood like this dog. Have you ever heard of an entire neighborhood loving a cat? One or two people, sure, maybe even an entire family, but that’s about it.

And doesn’t it depend on how you define good? I mean he’s not giving blood, he’s not volunteering at the parish rummage sale, but he does let you know when the UPS guy is here. So maybe this dog hasn’t done anything important like sniffing out bombs or tracking down convicts, but I know a lot of bomb-sniffing dogs that I wouldn’t want to spend an afternoon on the bike trail with. Those dogs tend to be paranoid for one thing, and you’d have to be like: “Relax! He’s a jogger for Chrissakes.” And giving Whiskers the nod this time doesn’t take away from the good work those other dogs are doing. Not only is Whiskers a good dog, he’s a really great cat, and I mean a really really great cat.