Love me, love my Dalmatians

It must have been a cat lover who once remarked that dogs, especially Dalmatians, always have stupid grins on their faces. I don’t know about her but I’d rather have a dog that grins a lot than a cat that sulks all the time.

I grew up with dogs. As a child, I would find myself petting a dog any time of the day… except when he’s having dinner. If you were bored and had nothing to do, it was easy to call on one of our dogs, sit beside him and cuddle him like crazy. Dogs never complain about the attention. They actually like the distraction.

We never had askals at home. We always had mestizos, mixed breeds of one dog or another. We’ve had a German Shepherd, English Setter (or was Tootsie a King Charles Spaniel?), Chow Chow and, later, a Schnauzer-Retriever. All the other dogs we had were combinations of these breeds.

The only purebred dogs we ever had then were a pair of Dobermans. They were so fierce, I don’t remember ever going near them. We didn’t have them for long. They died after they got poisoned by a would-be robber, or so I was told.

When our last dog died in 1998, the family decided to get a real dog instead. No more short cuts. No more dogs from friends. We were finally buying one that we liked, a dog that stood out from all the other dogs in the neighborhood.

Airing over cable TV then was 101 Dalmatians. Yes, we got a Dalmatian. And yes, our dog stood out from all the askals and Labrador Retrievers in the neighborhood.

Buster is our first Dalmatian; he’s also partly deaf. It was only after we got him that we discovered that Dals are genetically predisposed to deafness, hip joint dislocation and kidney stones. Tough luck! Buster’s not only partly deaf, but for a time he had kidney stones. But that’s something you can easily remedy with a change in diet. And he’s been clear of stones since.

We got Buster a partner, Bona. What a funny name! On a trip to Seoul a few years ago, I got to talking about dogs with an Australian journalist. She found it funny that we called our female Dal Boner. I had to spell it out for her.

Bona was a good sport. Even if we left the gate, she would never run out. Maybe she knows that she can get all the dinner she wants in our house. That’s why at my grandmother’s wake, the entire neighborhood showed up because they wanted to pet her. She would be beside our guests morning, noon and night, offering her head for petting. Of course, she benefited from all leftovers then. They would feed her a tidbit every so often. Smart dog, don’t you think.

Three years ago, she died of cancer. We never knew what really. She got sick often, and the vets never really knew what was wrong with her. On the morning Timothy McVeigh was fried on the electric chair for the Oklahoma bombing, Bona died.

A few days later, we got Cookie and it’s like we never noticed Bona’s absence. Cookie has a mind of her own. You can’t cajole her into doing something she doesn’t want, except if you’re feeding her dinner or taking her out for a walk. You would have to trick her if you want to get things done.

She likes her mid-morning walks at 9 a.m., just like Bona before her. Since she used to sleep in my room after her early morning walk, she would promptly jump on me and lick me like crazy to remind me about the time. Sometimes, if she’s deathly bored and no one minds her at all, she would go upstairs and check on the rooms. Usually, she would climb up on my bed and she’d doze off while I read a book, watched a movie or listened to music. Sometimes, she’d paw the jalousies open and have a look at what’s happening outside. If she sees a dog she doesn’t like, she barks like crazy.

All that has come to an end. Last June 9, Cookie gave birth to a litter of nine. And the guidebooks were right. Dal puppies are born white. Except for three pups that had black ears, they were all pinkish white, just like baby mice.

Two puppies died a week after they were born. Maybe they just didn’t have it in them. Maybe Cookie gave up on them. We all understood. How could she possibly feed nine puppies and keep her sanity?

After two months and numerous home visits by the vet, we have three puppies left at home. I know everyone who took in our puppies are now discovering the joys of owning a Dalmatian.

Jonas went to my niece, and my parents are busy cleaning up after him. I hope my Mom hasn’t given him the third degree yet. She can get any pet to obey her, believe me. All of my sisters’ cats are afraid of her, and you know how willful cats can get.

Aling Becky Naguit, our former editorial assistant, got Nunal (aka Jumbo) and Jinky. Nunal was my favorite among the seven. He’s got a giant spot on his forehead and he listens to you when you talk to him. A week after Aling Becky took them home, my aunt got a frantic call that the puppies weren’t eating and that they were vomiting all over the house. I was abroad for the weekend. When I finally got hold of Aling Becky – well, her daughter actually – the puppies were well and good. Must be some phase or something.

Jamby went to the mother of my sister’s best friend. So far, no news is good news. I hope she’s well although Jamby sometimes gets a little hyper.

We’re keeping Jinggo because he was the most sickly of all seven. On the fourth week, we were surprised one morning to see his neck all swollen. The vet said he must have been bitten a cockroach. We took him out of the cage, and of all the puppies, he got breastfed the most. At two months, he was the biggest of the lot, which was a surprise since he was the smallest before his illness.

Jenny, on the other hand, has been ill for the past few weeks. It started with a fever. Then one of her legs suddenly ballooned. Last week, her two hind legs got swollen. She’s been under medication and the vet advised that she be caged. But she whimpered a lot when we separated her from Jinggo and Jordan. Hopefully, all her legs will be in fine form this weekend. And we’re all wishing that it would be the last of her problems.

Jordan is the joker of the lot. We’re supposed to find him a new home, but all my friends either have no space for a pet or are allergic to dogs. He turned three months last Tuesday. We’re still deciding whether we should keep him or not.

With five dogs in the house, we’ve had to move things around to keep accidents to a minimum. We took out all the center and side tables and evacuated them upstairs. You can imagine how intense things can get when the three puppies decide to play. Who ever coined the word dogfight was right. It’s more frightening than a cockfight. Jinggo is the most docile of the three, but when Jordan starts chewing on his tail or his ears, that’s the end of it. He looks like Cerberus on a bad hair day. Jenny is just as incensed when Jordan invades her snack. While they do lunch or dinner on an old frying pan, when it’s time to snack they get very territorial. Soup bones do wonders to keep them quiet, but when somebody has the wicked idea of sneaking up on someone busy on his chew, then all hell breaks loose. And if Cookie isn’t grumpy over something, then you’re sure playtime can turn to nightmare.

But that’s nothing really to what the puppies have given these past three months. It’s like having kids, I think. We watched them grow up, we feed them and just recently I started to take them out for walks, too. When the neighborhood kids are out of school, they would run to our sari-sari store and call to them. And you can be sure that Jordan or Jinggo would show up to greet their fans.

Jordan has just learned to climb the stairs. He’s learned Cookie’s practice of going up and snooping into the rooms when he’s bored. Sometimes, I would be surprised to find him pawing my thigh wanting to get up on my bed. We would lie beside each other – me reading a book, him chewing my hand and fingers. Jinggo hasn’t gotten the knack of climbing stairs yet, and Jenny’s still indisposed. One morning in the future, I’m sure there’ll be four Dals on my bed, and that would be the end of my morning and afternoon naps.

So, are dogs, especially Dalmatians, really stupid? Duh!