There, I said it.
Despite the fact that I have become in my early hundreds allergic to cats, to the point that without an Aqua-net sized Albuterol inhaler I will whorf like a Kirby with an over-full bag, I love them. I love that when you get affectionate with them they look at you with pity because you're too clingy. I even love that they decide that they have to express their undying affection for you the exact moment that you haven't saved the 36 hours of work on an incredibly complicated spreadsheet or career-making PowerPoint by jumping onto the keyboard, pressing CTRL/ESC/Enter, preening and giving you a melting look that says "yes, I have destroyed your career, but at the moment I adore you, and if you don't want me to treat your Prada as my litterbox you will pet me.
Of course Dogs do this, and they get off Scott(ie)-free. At the risk of provoking Dog lovers, you will put up with Fido actually chowing down on your Prada, peeing (or worse) on the rug and yet still waking you up at ungodly hours for a walk.
That, and the fact that they bark. Every minute you aren't home. Trust me on this.
Image of Giselle from The Non Blonde