DARLING DOGS can never be COOL CATS

The domestic cat has always been a contradiction to the term ‘pet’. Cats first purred their way into human hearts thousands of years ago, and have been our treasured companions and soul-mates ever since. No animal has ever developed such an intimate relationship with mankind, while at the same time, demanding and getting such independence of movement and action. Cats lead a double life. At home it is an overgrown kitten which needs attention from its human owners. Out on the roads, it is fully adult, its own boss and a free-living wild creature, alert and self-sufficient. By living both with other cats and with humans during its kitten-hood, the cat becomes attached to both world, and considers that it belongs to both the species. It may be a cat physically, but mentally it is both a feline and a human. But once it is fully adult however, most of its responses are feline ones, and it has only one major reaction to its owners—it treats them as pseudo-parents.
All this is rather different in case of the dog. For thousands of years, dogs have been cherished as devoted companions and exuberant playmates—their unconditional love, limitless affection and unwavering loyalty never fail to melt our hearts. The dog may be man’s best friend, but it is rarely allowed to go out on its own to wander from streets to gardens and off to the jungle. The obedient dog has to be taken out for a walk. The dog too sees its human owners as fake-parents, but it has an additional link.

To justify what I mean, I would like to quote the instances of the series of pets we have had back home, both from the canine as well as the feline societies.The earliest memories that I have of any of our pets is that of our adorable ‘Johnny’—a hairy local breed from Bhutan which looked more or less like a Lhasa Apso—all white hair with a few black patches on the back. He was brought home almost the same time I was born and we grew up together. I have memories of Johnny being a brat of a dog, who could be tamed only by my dad. But he was a ferocious hound to strangers and outsiders. He did not cause any harm to my new-born sister when she was brought in from the hospital after my ma’s delivery or even later after that. But he would never spare anyone unaccompanied by any of our family-members who would try to access our main door or the back one. He would often break loose out of his iron-chain clasp to scare beggars or street children who would stop by to steal fruits from our garden-trees within the compound of our house. As a child I had a very weak appetite, which resulted in me sneaking away my unfinished meals to Johnny on the sly, when not being watched by my parents or our caretaker, and he would gulp everything down as fast as he could. We were the perfect ‘partners in crime’. He was poisoned to death by someone in one of his usual chain-breaking-escapades to the neighborhood. He returned to die at my mother’s feet. He lived to be six.

After Johnny, my ma almost swore never to keep a pet again… except for a few ducks and hens on and off. She could never forget the pain of Johnny struggling to death in front of her. My Aita (granny) often told us stories about my ma being more of a cat-woman in her pre-marital days when she could not be separated from her pet cats. But we could never imagine having a cat as a pet. My dad was not found of cats and I hated them to the core of my heart. My younger sisters were of-course too indifferent to the idea. But as luck would have it, one fine day, a glossy jet-black cat (Ma named ‘Kalu’) took to visiting our home-ground on an almost-regular basis. But this cat was actually a ‘saint of a cat’, I admit. He was gentle and docile, never scratched, never stole and maintained decent distance, never trying to access into our house. He was almost a wild cat who preferred to hunt for his prey, but on a dry-day when he could not kill a mouse or a sparrow or anything else, he would come by, sit outside our kitchen window and meow to ma, demanding food. Kalu’s good nature amazed my dad and made me curious about his ‘cat-life’ beyond our kitchen window. His favorite amongst our home-made dishes prepared by ma was a fish-curry cooked in a special local herb, which has medicinal values. My ma was convinced that Kalu must have been her child in ‘their’ previous lives. One day Kalu mysteriously disappeared.

My ma was heart-broken, yet once again, but not for long. ‘Cause after a few days, maybe a few weeks, another jet-black cat, almost like Kalu, appeared all of a sudden. At first we all mistook it for Kalu and were happy and relieved that it would finally end my ma’s grief and mend her broken heart, but ma was the first and only one to notice that this cat was younger, slimmer and more elegant than our sturdy Kalu. It was a she-cat and her emerald-green eyes were scared and wild. She was at first a little scared to befriend us, but amazingly, she had all the good-natured-ness of Kalu, which of-course made ma calculate and establish that this cat must definitely be Kalu’s alleged daughter. We instantly named her ‘Kalu-jr’. She continued to visit us on and off like her ‘parent’ whenever she couldn’t get her day’s kill, and whenever she prized an extraordinary one, like a fancy-looking bird or a giant rat, she would bring it to the ground outside our kitchen window to show off her skills to ma.

Then what happened is far from what anyone can imagine. There must be the word-of-mouth culture practiced in the world of the wild too. Otherwise, why would an unfamiliar pregnant cat come to our compound and give birth to two identical golden-brown kittens, leaving them to my mother’s nursing and care. Ma, being the cat-woman she was, welcomed the beautiful new-born kittens gladly. She brought new feeding bottles and plates to feed the kittens. Within a few weeks, they grew up into cute, chubby golden-brown kittens. The naughty and lazy one (we suspected to be Garfield re-incarnated) was named ‘Tuku’ and his very opposite-natured twin brother with no cunningness of a cat was named ‘Babu’. Kalu-jr. took all this in a good spirit without any jealousy and played a very responsible elder-sister to both the kittens, in her infrequent visits for lunch or dinner. Tuku and Babu were the in-separable twins who grew up in our house as complete pets. They never went out to their feline society to experience real cat-lives. My ma was their only mother they knew. Both of them were drastically opposite in their natures. I adored Babu for his straight-forwardness of a dog and hated Tuku for his laziness and cunningness. On a couple of occasions, I even caught him trying to steal food from our kitchen. He was like a real cat which I hated. My ma and my sister adored and loved him for his catty habits. They would spoil him with all kind of pampering to make up for the punishments I would carry out on him. I never liked that grin (of revenge) on his fat lazy face.

Come the next mating season, another set of four kittens this time, for my ma to bring up. We were beginning to believe she would have to open up a nursery for kittens. She welcomed them too with open arms. Meanwhile, our response was swift and firm: No more cats! The lonesome four were not welcome by us and we gave ma a cold shoulder about the new kittens. Seeing everyone behave the way we did, ma suddenly lost interest in the new-born kittens too. She would give food to Kalu-jr., Tuku and Babu in their respective meal plates, but the new-born kittens remained hungry and homeless. Two of them died in about a couple of days and two of them survived. Kalu-jr. played her same sisterly-role, while Tuku-Babu remained indifferent. I was touched by the cute young things trying so hard to survive on love, play and tap-water. Alas I had to intervene. I stepped in and vouched to take them into the family. Ma agreed to keep them long enough for them to grow up just a little so that they are safe from scavenger birds or other enemies. Then they would have to go—no arguments.

These two kittens were totally different to look at. ‘Foxy’ had a thin pointy fox-like face and was of a reddish-brown color. The other one which had grey-black catty stripes, had a very beautiful face. We named her ‘Bhotokla’ (like a ‘Bhokot’- a pious saint). Both Foxy and Bhokotla must have somehow understood their situation. They seemed to study the other three cats and their interactions with us. When the other cats were aloof, these two were attentive. They came when their names were called, and would behave well. Finally persistence paid off and they were accepted as a family. Our family of five with the family of five cats. We separated when we sold off that property after a couple of years to move into our present property at the other end of the city.

After moving into our new home, my ma of-course missed her five children of cats. She even tried to find out about them from the family who bought our old place. They informed that the cats did not come around any more. Ma was just beginning to feel depressed again, when dad brought her a cute new-born pup, a local breed from Nagaland. She was distracted from the thoughts of her separated kittens and more concentrated on her new pet. She named him ‘Tuktuk’. Tuktuk was totally pampered and spoiled by ma. He never liked dad and was totally scared of him. On one occasion ma had to leave Tuktuk for a couple of days with dad, when she went to visit granny. Both dad and Tuktuk had a non-co-operation movement between them. Tuktuk refused to touch a morsel of food or even a drop of water till ma returned after a couple of days. This pup of ours had a funny fascination for crossing lanes, unattended. He was killed instantly when he came under a vehicle while crossing one of the neighborhood lanes. He was about six months old. That was about two years ago.

Last year in February, when we had gone to Arunachal Pradesh for a family holiday, ma fell in love with one of the three new-born pups of the dog of a roadside food-vendor. So, on our way back home, she bought the pup she had earlier set her eyes upon. This pup was a ball of black fur with light violet eyes. He was the strongest of the three pups. I felt bad to see the mother and the father dogs search frantically for their missing pup after it was quickly picked up and put into our car. But I knew ma would take better care of it than its own mother. Everybody said the pup would not live as the climate in Guwahati(my hometown) is much warmer than that of Arunachal. But he survived. We named him ‘Laddoo’. After we reached home, I washed it clean and got rid of its ticks and germs, as my 'vet' sis could not be bothered with anything related to animals...(she's the butt of all jokes for that). I fed him with biscuits softened in milk for him to swallow. He was a ball of fur on four feet who was overweight and would roll off the stairs when he tried to climb them down. I then had to leave him to my ma’s care and nursing and return to Delhi. When I went home in August, I was shocked to find that he has grown up to be the size of an Alsatian. My ma informed me that he was re-named 'Dhunu' (meaning 'good-looking' as he no longer resembled a 'laddoo'). He forgot me completely and barked at me ferociously but quietened down to swallow the toffee I had bribed him with, which he is generally not allowed. After I showered and changed, he refused to recognize me again, and I had to start the introduction session all over again. He is the dumbest of all dogs I’ve ever known. He chews on you when he likes you, but doesn’t know how to bite. The milkmaid and the fish-hawker are his best friends. He blocks the road when let out in the mornings, wanting to play with the passers-by thinking he is also a human, but does not befriend other dogs. His best friends are two black goats from the neighborhood. He is extremely jealous of kids or babies, especially the ones my ma picks up or cuddles with love. Every time he is angry with ma, he tears into tiny shreds leaves from the indoor-plant pots kept in our living room. Or swallows one of the tiny Ganeshji idols from the display table and then fall sick. He cannot stand the word ‘vitamin’. The situation of 'Dhunu' not recognising me remained the same even when I visited home again this April. I am convinced now that either he has no smelling power that dogs are so strong with,or that his memory is really poor. My sister has no clue on this whatsoever..

With a series of both feline and canine pets at home, I realized that cat-lovers tend to be rather different from dog-lovers, and as a rule, they have a stronger personality-bias towards independent thought and action. The argument will always go on—feline self-sufficiency and individualism versus canine friendship, loyalty and good-fellowship. But in reality, there are many people (like my ma) who enjoy equally the company of both cats and dogs. Nearly all of us have both feline and canine elements in our personalities. We have moods when we want to be alone and thoughtful and other times when we wish to be in the centre of a crowded party. But the fact remains that we humans have entered into a solemn contract with both cats and dogs and have developed an unwritten and unspoken pact of love and bonding with them.