Fido vs. Salvador Dali

What is it with dog/cat stereotyping?

From an article in the Village Voice, this paragraph struck me (emphasis mine):

The closest I've come to getting a handle on all this is something painter Eric Fischl has talked about. Imagine calling two pets, one a dog, the other a cat. Asking a dog to do something is an amazing experience. You say, "Come here, Fido," and Fido looks up, pads over, puts his head in your lap, and wags his tail. You've had a direct communication with another species; you and Fido are sharing a common, fairly literal language. Now imagine saying, "Come here, Snowflake" to the cat. Snowflake might glance over, walk to a nearby table, rub it, lie down, and look at you. There's nothing direct about this. Yet something gigantic and very much like art has happened. The cat has placed a third object between you and itself. In order to understand the cat you have to be able to grasp this nonlinear, indirect, holistic, circuitous communication. In short, art is a cat.

All I can say is Jerry Saltz, you may be a fine art critic, but you've never owned a coonhound. At least art doesn't eat Pottery Barn curtains while launching tendrils of saliva that would make a giant squid blush in all directions. More to the point, I've got a pretty strong feeling I could summon The Persistence of Memory to my front door with Jedi mind-powers before my hard-headed hound will act as you've indicated (unless I'm holding food).

I do give you credit for using the word "aholistic", though. Tee hee.