Animals

No, not about the great Pink Floyd album, but it is about animals.  I’m really not much of an animal person, more like a people person.  I’ve never owned a pet, nor do I have interest in doing so.  Having said that, I do get along with other people’s pets, both dogs and cats.

 Dogs.  I used to have a fear of dogs, until my friend Phil explained how they “work”: eager licking = happy to see you, growling and bearing teeth = angry, + dogs sense fear and have contempt for anything that fears them.  After that I had no problems.  I’ve noticed that small dogs tend to bark far more often than large dogs, some sort of “Napoleon” complex, and that male dogs are far more aggressive than female dogs, especially if they haven’t been fixed. 

            Dogs are very loyal, very much friends, and quite empathic.  A dog can not only sense fear, but also happiness and sadness, and seems to share his/her master/mistress’ feelings.  A dog will greet you eagerly when you come home, unless it’s been naughty (oops!  Accident!  Made a no-no on the carpet or ate all the cheese his mistress left on the kitchen table, never imagining the dog could leap up on a chair and onto table.  D’oh!).  I’ve known women with dogs and men with cats, so it’s not a male-female thing, plus women with male pets and men with female pets.

            The major pain with dogs is (A) housebreaking a puppy, and (B) walking the dog.  My former boss used to have to run home from the office each day to walk his all-white Jack Russell terrier Devon, until he hired a dogwalker.  The dogwalker would leave notes on the fridge: “She did her business!” “She didn’t want to go out in the rain” and similar things.  Devon loved the snow, but 0 degrees Fahrenheit temperature was too cold even for her.  Tadinha!  Devon loved me, and I loved her.  She is missed. 

            Phil’s family was definitely dog lovers; he grew up with dogs and knew them well.  They had German shorthaired pointers, which are fairly large dogs, dark grey fur with brown mottled spots.  The dogs were large enough that they could stand up and rest their paws on your shoulders and lick you right on the face – not particularly pleasant, but it was the dog’s way of showing affection.  They were always well behaved, never biting or barking excessively.  The female, Bonnie, had puppies, a whole litter of cute little ones, miniature versions of their mother and father, romping around in a plastic kiddie pool tub.

            Years ago, when living in Paris (around 1980-84) we had a Yorkshire terrier, which we named Tichien (as in “petit chien”, i.e. small dog).  Unfortunately this little dog was far more of a nuisance than a pleasure, far more annoying than cute.  The dog was “let go” because he absolutely, positively refused to be housebroken. 

            My brother’s family had a mixed race mutt, Kira, who was very nice.  She was always happy to see me, and I played with her and pet her.  Unfortunately, Kira recently reached the end of her useful life and had to be retired from the living, albeit with great reluctance and sadness after all other options had been exhausted.  She was replaced by a similar looking dog, Alice (both were from animal shelters), who is now finally asserting her rightful role as family “companion animal” (as pets are referred to under Virginia law), including unauthorized access to the sofa. 

            My frend’s daughters have three dogs, Sula & Mica (brown and black miniature pinschers, both females from Brazil, see above) and Coco (white Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix, male).  Coco is a little lion (“leãozinho”).  He loves to roar, but also howl like a wolf (“lobinho”); dogs, particularly German shepherds, seem like domesticated wolves.  Sula and Mica are a terrible pair, but I do like Sula, probably the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen.

            If I’m ever near a pet store, I’ll check out the puppy cages.  They are always adorable, whether playfighting with their cage roommates or sleeping.  Awwww.

 Cats.  Whereas a dog seems to orient itself to its master, a cat is very independent, more like a roommate. “Oh, it’s you.  Where’s my food?”  A cat’s tail seems to be expressive: flicking around as if to demonstrate its mood. Cats are graceful and usually strike me as miniature tigers, stalking balls of yarn or toys as if they were sneaking up on some gazelle in the wild. 

            We owned a cat in Paris, sometime in the mid-80s, a small female Siamese (white with black face & paws).  She had not been fixed, so every month she’d prowl around the apartment making weird noises (no male cats in the apartment to respond, of course).  We had to get rid of her because my dad was allergic to cats.  Her name was also Coco, not to be confused with the male dog mentioned above.  I remember being neutral towards the cat, neither fond of it nor disliking it. I imagine the feeling was probably mutual.

            My ex-boss’ wife had a cat named Mr. Kitty, listed on the lease as “temporary cat”.  No, this wasn’t because the animal sometimes took the form of other species (dog, snake, rabbit, etc. – a shapeshifting pet!) but because the landlord was simply giving her time to find Mr. Kitty alternate housing arrangements.

            I don’t have a position in the “dog vs. cat” debate; I have no preference for one vs. the other.  Whatever superiority cats have in intelligence over dogs is offset by their vindictiveness. 

 Forget elephants and donkeys: I think of dogs as Republicans and cats as Democrats.

 Fish.  To me fish are extremely dull: they simply swim in their fishbowl and eat the food you give them.  For some reason goldfish seem to have a life expectancy measured in days.  We never figured that out.  Hopefully the fish lived long enough for you to name it, but odds were against that.

 Turtles.  Another dull animal.  The highlight of watching a turtle is seeing it break the surface of the water to gulp down the food.  Then it swims around, or slowly moves over the rocks.  ZZZ.

 Ferrets.  I like ferrets, but I’d never own one.  They seem like rats, only long and cute.  They love crawling through confined spaces like the sleeves of jackets or behind couches – places that would make most humans claustrophobic.  I’m not aware that they make any sound. 

 Hamsters & Gerbils.  You can get those modular orange plastic houses for them and make networks, or the treadmill for them to buff out on, but that’s about it.  Another low-impact pet which doesn’t do much, but is pretty low maintenance.

 Birds.  To me birds just make lots of annoying noises and poop on the newspaper in their cage.  To my eyes, the blue jay is the nicest looking bird, and they are wild.  A bird is a flying creature, so keeping it in a cage is like keeping a carnivorous animal on a vegetarian diet, or telling a NASCAR or Formula 1 driver to ride a bicycle around for our amusement. 

 Years ago, I asked my niece Zoe what noises various animals make.  Dog? “Woof!”  Cat? “Meow!”  Pig? “Oink oink!”  Fish? “Suck suck! [puckering lips]”  Snake? “Hisssss.”  Elephant? “BROAR [gesturing like trunk going up dramatically].”  Turtle?  [Sudden silence, then thoughtful expression, then:] “I don’t think a turtle says anything.”

 Other.  I can’t fathom the charm of iguanas.  Likewise for snakes, spiders, and other insects or creepy things.  I’ve never known anyone with a monkey or exotic animal pet.

 Zoos.  To me zoos are more for kids than adults.  Most of the animals sleep or hide.  SORRY, THE ELEPHANTS ARE CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION.  Last time I went to the zoo, the elephants were out of town and the panda was in the Witness Protection Program, while the lions and tigers were comatose or simply stoned on industrial strength catnip.  Much of the pleasure of the zoo is vicarious, watching the children’s faces and answering their questions (“what are those two [copulating] animals doing?”).

 County Fair.   At the Montgomery County Fair, they have long barns with stalls, full of either cows, sheep, or pigs, even goats, who baa-aaa-aaa.  The cows occasionally “moo”.  I’ve never heard any pigs go “oink”, but they are fat, often pink, and do have curly tails and seem to love mud.  Years back we went with Phil, who suggested “punching the pig” – sure enough, the confused pig (dude, WTF?) felt like a rock with hair on it.

 Circus.  Whereas the zoo shows animals in a fake natural habitat mostly sleeping or away for construction, the circus at least shows various wild animals tamed to perform various tricks.  Elephants, tigers, lions, bears (favorites in Russian circuses) which are not simply sleeping but up and about – much more fun than a zoo.  But circuses were never my scene – not out of fear but I’m just not that into it, especially clowns. 

 Nature shows.  If it involves Nazis, WWI, or things of that nature, I’ll watch it.  Sharks?  Safaris?  Crocodile Hunter? ZZZ.  I don’t even care to see animals mate, much less fish swim, which ranks up there with watching paint dry or ice melt.  Nor am I into any fishing shows (fat old guys on a boat discussing lures) or hunting (stick with the guitar, Ted, or your colorful political commentary, I don’t care to see you shoot something with a bow & arrow).  I’m a carnivore, so it’s not any squeamishness about cruelty to animals, or any moral opposition to hunting, so much as sheer boredom.  Hunting strikes me as something that is more fun to do than to watch – unless, of course, you are the animal.  I suppose then it might be interesting. 

            I do make an exception for dinosaurs.  My brother and I took his kids to the Museum of Natural History in DC, and among the more intriguing exhibits were the ones on prehistoric mammals, and dinosaurs.  In both cases it’s fascinating to see what the world looked like 200 million years ago, or 50 million years ago, etc.  Most of the focus on prehistoric animals goes to dinosaurs, of course, and rightfully so.  But there are plenty of bizarre mammals, long since extinct, which roamed the Earth back then and look NOTHING like what we have today.