| Predator or Pet: The Canine Instinct |
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| Written by Cristina |
| Sunday, 11 April 2004 12:14 |
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Tubby, Mocha and Manoy. I like to think of them as three hybrid canines who have always guarded our home and are the most gentle of pet dogs ... 60% native breed. The rest of their genes, I really wouldn't know. All I know is that their other attributes are an exhibit of non-native breeds uncommon to "askals" -- that is how native canines are called in Filipino. It is short for "mga asong kalye" or street dogs ... "mga aso" meaning dogs, and "kalye" meaning street. Goit is the true "askal" of their family. Hers is a trim fur of ebony with a dash of white on her breast. She has a small, lean build crowned by upright, pointed ears and a long tail that wags during her pleasant moods. Our garden is a big playground for this dog but the streets seem to have a different appeal to her. In heat, Goit would leap from our fence and would be gone for days, answering the call of fertility. Goit is the dog-matron to Tubby and Mocha, both female canines. Tubby is a black beauty of Labrador features and she was among the first batch of Goit's litter. In less than 7 months, another batch of offsprings and a brown puppy of a Shepherd dog's version began stealing the scene from her older sibling. Brown as "coffee with cream" is Mocha ... she, too, has a lovely face. Mocha was barely 2 months old when a stray puppy was nearly caught under the wheels of a vehicle as I crossed the street to our home one late evening. I called the little fellow to the safe side of the street and it responded. He was more beige than cream with a long tail and with ears that drooped to the sides of his face ... so much like a foxhound, only smaller. He followed me home and as the first male dog stepped into our gate, the rest is history. That dog has grown up, responding to only one name, Manoy -- a local for the word, "Mister" :) Goit is on to her 3rd batch of litters and since she was getting more accustomed to abandoning her pups for the streets, my sister and I finally decided that she be leashed. Only Tubby, Mocha and Manoy remained our sentries. They are good dogs. Mocha is the most playful among the sentries, although she tends to have her stubborn moments. She is the strongest in the pack and can pin down both Tubby and Manoy, whether at play or in their sparring moods. Her hind legs are so powerful that her leap can span 5-6 feet from the ground. Tubby has a more serious demeanor and focuses her senses on those who move around our fence. She is Mocha's fiercest sparring partner and I always wonder at the irony of how these dogs recognize blood ties. They provoke one another with utter hostility, yet they protect each other when provoked by strangers who dare enter our fence. The orphan, Manoy is the most docile and most averse to conflicts. But strangers beware for he would be the first to bare his fangs. Yet, so gentle is Manoy that I remember when he was smaller, he chased a cat in the garden, then Mocha and Tubby came in for back-up. When the feline got cornered by the three, Manoy came closest but he suddenly became hesitant as to whether to snap at the strange creature or not. The cat saw through his indecision and lashed its paw to his face. Manoy retreated but the other two dogs attacked ... still, the feline got away. And I felt relieved. I could never be prepared for what would happen between cats and dogs in combat. Each time I would hear a commotion in the garden, I would see cats that challenge our sentries and they wind up speeding up towards the roof of our tool shed built right beside the house. Then they would look down at the canines with seemingly sneering expressions. For me, it was an amusing sight. A common joke between cats and dogs and it's all because that seems to be why cats and dogs were created -- just to chase and jest each other. Besides, sentries our dogs may be, but I could never imagine them engaged in violent depictions with a feline. They could never outrun a feline. It just couldn't happen ... or so I thought. It was the Lenten Season. No work from Wednesday through Easter Sunday. I had my sister borrow 8 movie video titles for me to watch for the long Holy Week. On video was "The Core" and tension was mounting when a breach threatened the ship as it collided with huge diamond formations beneath the earth's crust. An auto-eject mechanism of the breached structure was in place and everything inside it must likewise be isolated immediately to save the rest of the ship. But the arms specialist was trapped inside the doomed structure. His best friend struggled desperately to get him out. All of a sudden ... The sentries were barking viciously. Someone seemed to be outside. I turned off the video player and squinted through the darkness. I could hear my sister shouting the dogs' names. My sister's voice got louder, yet there was worry underlying her tone. She kept shouting but the growls began drowning her voice. Only one lamp post illuminated our house from across the street and I could see dogs and master at the corner of our garden. The dogs would pause for a while, at the sound of my sister's voice, but then the violent commotion would resume. I ran outside and my sister was in panic. The sentries surrounded a creature and they were not being merciful. It was a feline. Immediately, I got a bucket of water and my sister splashed them at the sentries to distract them. But they remained focused and unyielding. I flashed a blinding spotlight to ward them off and set them to change their focus on me as I shouted their names. For an instant, they ceased, but the struggle between dogs and cat ensued. Finally, I went back to the house and came out with three black plastic bags and rolled them into whips, lashing in the air. I never let the "whips" touch the dogs but somehow the motion caused them to move aside. The growling stopped momentarily. "I think it's dead," my sister whispered. "Mocha was pulling one of its legs, Manoy tugged the other ... it was fighting back with whatever strength it had left ... Tubby was ... " I wouldn't hear the rest of the story ... I refused to. They were sentries, the cat was no prowler. Cats and dogs just chase and jest each other. The dogs were coming back -- bodies tensed, heads low, teeth baring. I don't understand ... the feline had expunged the last breath of its 9 lives. But the sentries were still thirsty for the kill. Again, I motioned the "whips" against them. All three dogs kept surrounding us, waiting for my sister and I to yield the victim to their quenchless brutality. Yet, we simply could not risk the dogs further mutilating the body. I tore one of the large plastic bags and spread the matting on the ground while my sister used a pair of thick rods to move the carcass to the matting. In the faint light, I could see it was a white, spotted full grown feline and its lifeless body rolled heavily. The night became a friend for I could not see the torn flesh nor blood in the darkness. But I saw no friendship in the dogs ... their instincts were overpowering the rules of obedience. From my peripheral vision, they were still coming for another attack. I went back for the "whips" and my sister raced for the gate ... with dead weight in a black bag. Then the dogs fell silent. Morning anew. Tubby, Mocha and Manoy were chasing each other playfully. The minute I stepped out of the house, Mocha and Manoy raced to have the first pat on the head. Strange how the gentleness came back after last night. I could never be prepared for what would happen between cats and dogs in combat. Last night, I saw the beasts, I saw the predators. It was no longer a joke between cats and dogs. And our sentries were there for the kill. Suddenly, I realized how big Manoy and Mocha have grown and all in a matter of months -- stronger, faster ... and no mercy. Tubby was no exception ... or maybe I was just misjudging the predator from the pet … the beast from man's best friend. Can instinct precede reason in a man, too? Mocha beat Manoy for the day's first pat on the head. I looked at her face amid the bright sunlight ... so gentle, so lovely. Yet, scratches still retold the irony of a feline's struggle the night before. Mocha wagged her tail and rolled over and over until she was joined by the others. Sentries, pet dogs, man's best friend ... come to think of it, those still don't change. |
