Dogs are awesome. They're smart, loyal, friendly, and awesome on a skateboard (all the things that cats aren't). It doesn't matter if you're Gandhi or Hitler; if you have a dog, that dog fucking loves you. A dog will defend your home and although they might screw up your plans for a Friday night, dogs are still pretty cool. They are truly man's best friend.
As a child I desperately wanted a dog despite my crippling fear of most canines. My parents, knowing that my promises to walk it and feed it (plus all the other various activities required to keep a small animal alive) were full of shit, refused to give an adorable puppy a death sentence.
My older brothers had limited success in caring for parakeets. Despite multiple accidents proving that a small avian cannot support the weight of a young teenager, my parents promised to buy me a cockatiel if I got good grades. I was excited. My brother had one and she was awesome. She could sing, play fetch, and was always excited when we got home from school. I assumed my cockatiel would be just as cool, if not better.
I was wrong.
My cockatiel, Rocky, was friendly when I played with him at the pet store. He gleefully hopped on my finger, scurried up to my shoulder, and attempted to cuddle with my ear. But this adorable display of affection was just a ruse. The next morning my cuddly feathered friend was replaced with a dick. No, not a literal dick. He was an asshole, a jerk, a douche. Any of those words could describe the monster that now inhabited a small corner of my room.
He'd hiss and bite at me if I went within three feet of his cage. After two days of terror from this small spawn of Satan I wanted to return him but I stuck with it. I thought I could change him. I tried pleading with him and bribing him with food and toys but the ungrateful fucker wasn't having any of it.
He'd throw food all over my desk and shit on everything. I gave this asshole food to eat and a home where he is allowed to poop wherever he wants. How did he repay me? He would climb out of his cage, walk across my desk, jump up on my shoulder and proceed to shit all over me. Although these "gifts" were never larger than a pea, it was what it represented that pissed me off. This tiny, four ounce bird thought he was better than me and made sure to demonstrate his opinion on a daily basis.
I have had Rocky for seven years now. In that time, he has learned to say only his name (because he's a narcissistic jerk), he has stopped constantly shitting on my shoulder, and he made up a song that he loves to sing as soon as the sun comes up. He has been here for seven years. Seven years of free food, water, and shelter but this feathered fucker still tries to bite me whenever I invade his "personal space". He's a dick and I hate him.
Get a dog. Dogs are awesome.