By Eileen Mitchell
The newspaper clipping on my desk was titled, "Study: People pick purebred dogs that resemble them." I was at work, sitting at my desk with my co-worker, Paul. We were discussing a presentation when I saw his eyes glance at the article. Then he looked behind my shoulder over at my computer, which had kicked into screensaver mode and features a photo of my greyhound, Elvis. Then he looked at me. Then back at Elvis. Then at me again.
"Yeah," he nodded nonchalantly, "You do look like your dog...."
Not a jury in the world would convict me. I was about to ask, through clenched teeth, if it was the long nose or floppy ears he thought bore the most resemblance when he added, "...you’re both tall and skinny."
Had he said "skinny"? Well, alrighty then.
But actually, resembling my dog wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. With his long, delicate limbs, soft, golden hair and chocolate syrup eyes, Elvis exudes a gentle Audrey Hepburn sweetness not always applicable to my own sometimes questionable demeanor.
The article Paul had spied on my desk noted, "When people pick a dog, they look for one that, at some level, bears some resemblance to them." While the study referenced physical traits, wouldn’t it be an improvement if we resembled the personality traits of our dogs?
I wish I could love like a dog, unconditionally and with total purity. Elvis won’t notice if I’m wearing brand new Manolo Blahniks or 10-year-old Birkenstocks. He doesn’t give a hoot about how much money I make, whether I’m Christian or Jewish, black or white, pro-life or pro-choice, Democrat or Republican. Do I drive a Bimmer or a Bug, live in a condo or McMansion? Maybe I battle chunky monkey thighs or am blessed with a bod like Beyonce. Doesn’t matter. Not important. Elvis is wholly and utterly devoted to me for one reason and one reason only: because I’m me. OK, that and I can work a can opener.
I’d love to wake up each morning absolutely thrilled for no reason other than it’s yet another day. Sure, I’m in good health, have wonderful family and friends, a roof over my head and food in my cupboards. Yet still, I complain. Where’s my whirlwind romance, best-selling novel or Caribbean cruise? Why can’t I make more money, lose more weight, have more fun? And is it Friday yet?
2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.
3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids. You may need to stand on the lid.
4. The cat will self-agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.
5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash and rinse."
6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.
7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids.
8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.
9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.
Sincerely,
The dog
A volunteer of PAWS found a baby kitten (around two to three weeks old) in the middle of the MRT tracks beside Shaw Boulevard.
The mother cat is a stray that she had been feeding almost every night at the Shaw MRT station’s janitors’ room since last December. The volunteer wanted to get her spayed but she was pregnant and was about to pop any moment. She was advised by her vet that the pregnancy was too advanced to do abortion/spaying. The volunteer wanted to bring her to PAWS’ Animal Welfare Rehabilitation Center (PARC) so that she could give birth there, but when she went back with a cat carrier bag, the cat was gone.
When the cat reappeared to ask for food, the volunteer couldn’t get her for a spay-release because here kittens were somewhere else. She decided to wait until the kittens showed up.
And then she saw four Americans peering at something on the train tracks – it was one of the kittens crying in the middle of the tracks. There was a train coming so we just watched in horror, expecting the worst. But, after the train passed, the kitten was still there – alive.
I asked the janitor if he could get the kitten for me. I was expecting him to say no due to a similar experience in Ayala MRT where there was this adult cat in the middle of the tracks and the janitor there refused to help me.
One of the Americans offered to get down on the tracks to get the kitten for the volunteer but she told him that they should wait for the janitor instead.
Finally the janitor came and got the kitten. The kitten is now at PARC.
PAWS Animal Rescue Team (ART) will go to the station today in case the janitors spot any more kittens.
If you are aware of any stray cats or kittens in the vicinity of any of the MRT stations you can take them to PAWS Animal Rehabilitation Center on Aurora Blvd., Katipunan Valley, Loyola Hts., QC
Or call PARC at 475-1688; e-mail them at philpaws@yahoo.com.