THAT WAS THE MILLENIUM THAT WAS by John Scalzi Read Free Book Online

amount the child has remaining, after that first exploratory bite.

Best Domesticated Animal of the Millennium.
    It's the cat, and I really don't want to hear from you doggie folks about it. As the owner of both a dog and a cat, I willingly concede that were I on a desert island with no other sort of companionship, and were given a choice between my dog and my cat, I'd go with the dog. The dog   is friendlier, more fun and, most importantly, has a quite bit more meat on her frame than the cat (come on , people. If you're stuck on a desert island, it's not because you want to be there). 
    But dog owners should also concede that by and large, it's been a pretty good millennium for their favored pet. The Ed McMahon to our Johnny, the Paul Allen to our Bill Gates, the Captain to our Tennille, dogs have prospered inordinately from their relationship with humans over the last thousand years. Dozens of breeds have shot out of the dog's disturbingly plastic gene pool, gracing us with animals that range in size from handbag to a Volkswagen Beetle yet which are all supposedly the same species (does anyone really think that would stop a Rottweiler from eating a Chihuahua? Drop the chalupa, indeed). There've been a few episodes of human bad behavior concerning dogs over the last thousand years, yes, usually coinciding with a war so devastating that it reminded folks that Man's Best Friend was wearing a fur coat, which it wouldn't need after it was fried up right nice. By and large, however, it's been smooth sailing.
    The same cannot said about the cat. The cat has spent a goodly chunk of the last thousand years being killed in depressingly creative ways by the very humans who were benefitting from its presence. These deep valleys of feline persecution were interrupted by wan peaks of enthusiasm : by the sailors, who valued the cat's companionship on long voyages, and by millers and other folks who stored grain, and were thus happy to see someone killing all those rats. But mostly, for the cat, this second millennium was all about being kicked.
    Who to blame? Christianity (which I've noticed is responsible for quite a lot of things this millennium, actually). Seems that when Christianity was busy sweeping across the European continent in the millennium previous to this one, one of the ways it would compete with other religions would be to demonize the deities of those religions -- a perfectly logical course of action when on e is trading in monotheism, of course. If your god is the only god, then all those other gods have to be, well, you know, false idols and all that. Thus the former gods fell into disfavor, as did their accouterments.
    Including cats. Cats were intimately associated with the Norse goddess Freya, who you might know from her association with the last day of the work week (that's right, thank a Goddess it's Friday).  Freya was surrounded by cats everywhere she went, and her wain was pulled by two very large and one assumes somewhat tractable cats. Cats also played a role in her religious ceremonies. You can see what's coming. Freya was relegated to a demon (the world's first "crazy cat lady"), and all those cats, her cute and furry little demonic friends, were labeled "familiars," conduits to the "To Do" list of ol' Scratch himself.
    Cats were in such bad odor during the medieval times (ironic, considering innate cleanliness of the cat, and general stink of the humans of that era) that it's been estimated that the cat population of Europe decreased 90% as people killed them, quick and slow. Some cats were even tried as witches, and you can see how unfair that would be to the cat. It clearly couldn't speak in its defense, and if it could, it would just be bolstering the prosecution's case.
    Europe paid for its crimes. You've probably heard about a little something called the Black Plague ; the Plague was transmitted by fleas, which used rats as their public transportation system. Normally the cats would kill the rats,