See that dog in the screenshot? I’m shunning it. The hunter is Sola, my guild leader. She’s a traitor. She used to raid with her beloved brown lynx, Caliban. As a fellow attack-cat, Caliban is one of my posse. We look awesome paired up together on a raid boss’ butt, clawing and mangling our way to victory. Sometimes we’re even joined by a third cat, usually Seishou, a pretty ghost saber who owns one of the guild’s other hunters. We have kitty power. JOHN F^#*ING MADDEN.
That dog puts a serious crimp in my style. When Sola began bringing it to raid for the dps boost, I made my disapproval abundantly clear. I gacked up an epic hairball in one of her favorite +120 Agility boots. I clawed up both sides of the guild sofa. I practiced the above-pictured shunning ritual each time she summoned the mongrel. When she betrayed Caliban, she betrayed one of my own. Caliban deserves to be Caliban the Kingslayer. The dog deserves a flea dip.
I do have to confess, though, that part of my vehement Caliban defense is motivated by guilt.
Guilt that I once did the same thing to Jagwyr’s long-time companion, Roflz the black lion. I tucked him away in the stables, gave him a dead shoveltusk to play with, and told him to behave himself while I trained my ugly new dps-boosting wolf. Shame on me. Roflz has fought at Jagwyr’s side since she plucked him from the Barrens at level 24. He deserves better.
This great betrayal happened because once, back in the early days of Wrath, I made the mistake of attempting to pug Naxx 25. I should have remembered that people on my server are mean, but since I mostly keep Trade chat turned off, it’s easy to get lost in blissful ignorance and perceive that my friends and I are server’s only inhabitants—everybody else is like a mobile NPC.
So I fly out to Naxx, I help summon, I hop on vent, zone in, drink my flask... and then I hear somebody saying on vent, “LOL Beastmaster. Fail. And it brought a cat pet, lol.” Never mind that I pull more than enough dps for Naxx, that I know all the fights, that I don’t stand in slime—I didn’t show up with the cookie-cutter spec and the cookie-cutter pet, so clearly I have no idea how to play. I have a thin skin, so by now my face is red and my eyes are filling with tears. I drop raid and hearth out. The next day I fly out to Icecrown and tame myself a generic wolf, which I name Pugawolf, and start learning how to play Survival.
This really was pointless, because I don’t normally pug, and after that experience, I swore never to pug on Malfurion again. The Survival spec turned out to be fun, so I kept it, but I ditched Pugawolf when I came to my senses. Roflz is part of the team. I felt a little guilty, a little silly, for having caved under the pressure of total jerkwad strangers. I'm sorry, Roflz!
That said, I do recognize that Sola’s choice is different. She doesn’t stable Caliban to win approval in the eyes of random Trade chat jerks. She still brings him out to play on the bosses we have on farm, and even on Lich King, because she wants him to be Caliban the Kingslayer just as much as I do. She brings the dog to progression bosses where that bit of extra dps really counts, because she wants to set a good example for the raid: do your best for the team, make small personal sacrifices so we can succeed, overcome challenges, and progress together. If that means a stinky wolf, so be it.
And you know what, I support that. In fact, this is my public declaration of reconciliation with the dog. Next raid I’m bringing a peace offering, an unconscious dig rat, and we can ceremoniously kill it together and deposit its corpse on Arthas’ favorite chair. It’ll be a bonding experience. Maybe I’ll even teach the mongrel how to pounce properly and furiously howl “John f#^*ing Madden.” … Maybe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
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