....is an English springer spaniel.
And this:
... is me.
I've been thinking about this theory that people are like their pets. And I've come to the conclusion that the spaniel and I actually have quite a lot in common.
For example, we both like to work. The spaniel came from a gun dog breeder in Kent, and she likes nothing more than to play endless, pointless games of fetch. She is at her happiest when hunting some pesky tennis ball out of big bed of stinging nettles. When she is too tired to play, she carries the ball or the toy in her mouth and chews it until she has got her breath back. If there is no-one to play with, she takes the ball to the top of my parents' sloping front drive, drops it under the car, and runs around to catch it as it rolls out on the other side. I have a really great video of this but it has my sister's voice on it so I will post it as soon as I've worked out how to remove the sound.
The dog is obsessed with tennis balls and bouncy toys, and I am obsessed with pens, highlighters, glossaries and my laptop. When there is no-one around to play with, I will happily make notes in the margin of Polityka, or listen to clips on Repubblica TV.
Also, we are both a bit shy. The spaniel is scared of strangers and often growls at people who just want to be friends with her. I can definitely see where she is coming from, but fortunately human social protocol does not admit that sort of behaviour.
We don't like it when people shout. When my Dad knocks over a big tray of paint on the hall carpet, or when I stub my toe on a chair, the spaniel slinks away to hide with her tail between her legs. She also has a horror of the vacuum cleaner, which I think is very reasonable.
And lastly, we are both easy to please: a long walk in the woods on a Kentish spring day will bring a smile to both our faces
Are you similar to your pets? How?
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8 comments:
Not at all. Our cat, 'Chisko', short for kocisko, the augmentative form of kot ('cat'), is a rather thick, miaowing to be let in the house at the front door, then running through the house and miaowing to be let out of the back door. The cat, when not asleep or hungry, doesn't know what it wants. Our last cat was much nicer, definitely a human soul reincarnated as a cat, but she was more attached to our old house than to us, and ran away from us when we moved to Jeziorki from Pyry, a thousand yards away.
I don't know about cats, but isn't there a theory that the domestic dog is a highly sophisticated parasite, like the cuckoo, exploiting our instinct to nurture and taking the place of our own children? Those who can best imitate human characteristics survive?
The spaniel does a very good questioning look, head cocked to one side, ears pricked up intelligently (at least as far as floppy spaniel ears will prick up) eyes wide open and distinctly human-looking.
I relate to my cat better than I do to most people. He's pure of heart; he isn't manipulative or greedy or concerned with worldly matters other than making sure he has his daily food and fresh water in his bowls and fresh litter in his box and comfy things to lay on and fresh air on the porch.
Likewise, I'm a simple person who enjoys grocery shopping and homey things and lounging and affection and the basics in life.
We watch TV together and sometimes he sits in front of me on the coffee table facing the TV with his head right in the way. I don't mind watching TV around the silhouette of the back of his cat head and ears, though it does amuse me that he's interested in the same programs. Since he's learning current events and political science, he's promised to teach me how to purr. So far every time he tries, he falls asleep, but I empathize because I am also a procrastinator.
Maybe the purring is so relaxing it soothes him to sleep? I think you get the better end of the deal: the ability to purr is much more valuable than politics...
I like this post.
The only thing my cat and I have in common is a tendency to hide away for days at a time. She is good at sleeping, I am rubbish at it. She hates moving house, I love it. Oh wait, we both like eating melon.
Mmm, melon...
I like hiding too. When things get too complicated I recommend hiding under the desk. It works wonders and removes the problem of unanswered emails immediately.
I tend to refuse this theory after my cat woke me up at 5.20 this morning (what morning? night!). Not that I would never ever wake up the people in my household, but I myself would be having my nicest dream at 5.20.
I also refuse any comparisons between my craziness and the cat's (even if this might be actually true).
heehee are you sure about that? I'm pretty sure we've been out going crazy at 5.20 in the morning! Although in more of a party-type context...
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