Looking for missing slippers these days is no longer the exasperating treasure hunt of the past. So long as I know where our Shih Tzu pup is or check her cage or favorite sleeping spots, finding those slippers is a cinch. Of course, I’ve also come to expect the canine-inflicted filigree pattern around the edges of said footwear to change with every abduction the youngest member of the family carries out. And I know better than to think I’ll be able to scold her for her petty thievery. Or the random poo and pee deposits that come with toilet training. Or her habit of poking her nose, literally and figuratively, into anything that catches her fancy. Try keeping a straight face when confronted with a pair of dark and long-lashed button-shaped eyes.
A warning: If you think you’re going to call the shots when you get a pet, you may be in for a rude surprise.
Decades ago, Channel 7 used to broadcast an old TV show called Training You to Train Your Dog. I say old because it was in black and white when color was all the rage and the clothes worn by the actors were more Happy Days than Hawaii Five-0. Yes, I’m talking late ‘60s/early ‘70s here. (And, doggone it, I’ve gone and given away my age.)
Anyway, I had no pet then and so have no idea just how effective the show’s training tips were. Apparently, pets have no need for similar edification. They appear to be born with a natural talent for turning the tables on their humans. I need no further confirmation of this than watching my husband and three sons grant our puppy’s every wish if it is theirs to command or trying to stay stern when attempting to discipline her and failing each and every time.
Sometimes I wonder: Is that due to her powers of manipulation or is it a reflection of their weakness for a pretty face and a pert bottom, swishy tail and all?
This near ridiculous devotion isn’t limited to our family either. One of my cousins got her dogs their own nanny so that they would be well cared for whenever she has to go abroad. And she throws lavish birthday parties for them complete with doggie guests, dogfood buffets and pooch-pleasing giveaways. Her husband has resigned himself to a life in the constant company of dogs.
My sister-in-law is no different. She sheepishly admits that she is more expressive of her affection with her dogs than with her husband and probably kisses them more often than she does him or their sons. And she proudly claimed her Shar-Pei’s recent progeny as grandchildren. Fortunately, her husband is just as besotted with them and doesn’t mind playing second fiddle so long as he remains top dog where it counts most. A good thing, too, because how surreal would it be were a couple to separate on account of a third party possessed of four legs, a tail and genuine dog breath?
But these aren’t the most extreme cases of canine love. I have heard tales of people who are so obsessed with their pets that they plan their holidays around them. My cousin told me of a US-based family who took their dog along with them on a trip to Disneyland. Since pets are not allowed on the park premises, they left theirs in their hotel room. Husband and wife spent the day periodically taking turns to return to the hotel to check on him. Even more bizarre, this same couple decided that one of them would forego attending a long-planned family reunion in the Philippines rather than entrust their dog’s care to friends or a kennel. Now, I think that’s going way beyond the call of pooch duty.
Our pets’ training of us, however, can be as amazingly beneficial as it is often comically pathetic.
Our middle son has autism and he was so afraid of dogs he would leap onto the nearest chair or table to avoid a Chihuahua. Why he was so scared of even the tiniest breeds we didn’t know yet, when in fact he had no fear of the huge horses he enjoyed riding in Subic or Camp John Hay in Baguio. Anyway, visiting my in-laws was a trial because of the presence of three Shar-Peis, two Shih Tzus and virtually a pound’s worth of dogs next door owned by my husband’s various cousins.
When we acquired Chibi, our son wouldn’t touch her even if she was small enough to fit in the palms of his two hands. As the months passed, however, her playful charm, affectionate manner and funny, sometimes madcap antics must have gotten through to him. Now he not only cuddles and plays with her, he is no longer afraid of other dogs either. The first time we realized he’d been cured of his phobia was when he carried Chibi into my in-laws’ house, wading through five yapping, pouncing dogs as if they weren’t there. We were so stunned it took a while for us to register what had just happened. Needless to say, we are grateful for this unexpected little miracle of love.
Dogs were domesticated to be of service to humans. Methinks someone somewhere along the line got his wires crossed and did things the other way around. These days it isn’t unusual to see some Tom, Dick or Harry at his pooch’s beck and call.
Not that dog lovers would notice or even care. But if they did, they’d probably give him a medal for his pains. And a certificate of achievement to Fido for training his human well.