Dogs in Costa Rica – “The Low Life Canine.” As described by the high brow feline

The Article below was “written” by and in memory of “Mohamed Ali”, a beloved Siamese cat, who lived to the ripe old age of 18 years; a cherished pet of Gloria Dempsey.

He was one of three feline pets at the same time and lived with “Sake”, another male Siamese cat who lived to be 15, and “Habibi”, a pretty female white Persian who died at the age of 13 years old.

The three were inseparable friends and very special and much loved pets of Gloria. “Apache” is a Golden Retriever mix rescue who was adopted during the time of the three kitties. The three kitties tolerated the new pooch but were less than thrilled with his company.

Those who own both a dog and a cat can take the time to sit down and observe and appreciate the extraordinary differences in the two species. I often thought if cats could speak, they just may voice the following opinion:

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“Sometimes words fail me in my attempt to describe the beast! Though we share the same order as carnivores, let me assure you that we have nothing further in common. Let me point out our vast differences:

To begin with, there is the matter of gait and coordination. Now, our dog, Apache, well, not my dog, per se, for I have no say in some of the riff-raff that live under the same roof as moi! “The dog” as I shall refer to him, bounds through the house like a kamikaze plane with all the noise of a freight train! You think he could sneak up on anyone, let alone catch prey? Not a chance!

It’s a good thing his family feeds him commercial food, for if he actually had to catch prey for a living, he would starve to death! They would hear him coming from New York! We felines, on the other hand, pride ourselves on our graceful and silent stealth and cunningness.

And as for coordination — let’s just say he has none. Unlike us felines who can daintily step between the myriad of perfume bottles and cosmetics and jewelry atop milady’s dressing table without so much as disturbing a single pearl, the clumsy oaf can clean off the entire dining room table with just one swipe of his tail! Sometimes I just sit at a distance (and I know just how far that distance need be to drive him crazy), watching, unable to comprehend his sheer clumsiness!

Now I hate to bring this up as it really makes me sound snobbish, but the animal is not even a pure breed! Unlike myself — pure Siamese — who can trace my lineage through dynasties, the creature hasn’t a clue who his parents are! One side of his heritage is obviously Golden Retriever, but God only knows what other blood lines run through his veins!

Whispered around our social circles is the fact that he was a “pound puppy”. I guess that only proves that you get what you pay for! Without the proper parentage and training, no wonder his manners are so crude!

Then there is the matter of personal hygiene! It defies explanation in the civil sense! Let me begin with my grooming routine. I begin each and every day with a lengthy and scrupulous grooming in which I clean and arrange every hair on my body from whiskers to tail priding myself on my sleek appearance. Then, I gaze out the window to see the family mutt with a big stupid grin on his face up to his knees and elbows in mud; dirt flying in all directions in pursuit of a chipmunk.

You guessed it; the next step is for one of the family members to grab the hapless beast by the scruff of the neck and haul him into the bath kicking and screaming in protest. Why, I would consider it an insult for someone to even hint that my personal hygiene was in question. Not only does he not mind being covered in mud, but if left to his own he would happily go around for weeks smelling worse than a barrel of dead fish and not even notice!

Speaking of smelling: there is the matter of our discriminatory olfactory differences in diet. He severely lacks the ability to fully appreciate the finer quality of the most expensive pet food on the market. It’s no secret that we felines invented the word, “finicky”. We felines turn up our royal noses if we even suspect that milady may have inadvertently purchased an off brand can of cat food. Just the thought of food not prepared to our high standards makes us queasy enough to cough up a fur-ball.

Then, there is the pooch which I affectionately refer to as the canine garbage disposal.. I must secretly confess that I marvel at the gastrointestinal fortitude of the beast. He will consume anything from dog food to raw hide chews, to old socks, couch cushions, pencils, tree branches — a sort of living bionic trash compactor. Far be it for him to complain about an off brand of dog food! If it slows down long enough, it’s dinner!

Then, there is the matter of his temperament. Nothing is too undignified or degrading for him to do in order to get dog treats; “sit”, “down”, “stay”, “roll over”. Good grief! There is no end to his groveling for treats and affection!

There he sits with that big slobbery grin, panting with his tongue hanging out, tail wagging, waiting for some kind of dog yummy! If you think us cats would stoop to such —- well, let’s just say, it would be a cold day in____! We have an entirely different technique and it’s most effective.

We have a cardinal rule: We don’t work for our treats. We don’t come when we’re called, we don’t roll over, and we certainly don’t “stay”. We hide in secret hiding places and let the whole family search for us, calling to the top of their lungs as though they think we’re deaf. And then only when the mood strikes, perhaps we will come out while they beg us to accept their kitty treats.

However, I would never tell “Fido” my strategy. I just sit back smugly and watch the mutt perform all of his doggy tricks and yell “Good Boy” with the rest of the family.

Oh, one final word on manners. When did you ever see a self respecting cat burp in your face after a meal, or have the audacity to stuff a cold nose up your “buns” as a form of greeting, or treat the kitty box as a delicatessen? Oh, I could go on, but why bother? I think you get the picture.

I have given much thought to our differences and am quite sure that we felines are several rungs higher on the ladder of evolution. I once read an article which stated that auto manufacturers tend to make more mistakes on Monday than on other days. So, it’s pretty obvious that we can take a good guess on which day God made the dog.”

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Written by Gloria Dempsey. Zoologist in Arenal, Costa Rica. April 2008

If you would to contribute to the rescue and care of wildlife in Costa Rica, please send US cashier’s cheques to our Zoologist friend in Arenal Gloria Dempsey:

Gloria Dempsey
5717-28 Nuevo Arenal – Tilaran
Guanacaste, Costa Rica.

Or you can email Gloria Dempsey here.

Andrew Makarik

to@welovecostarica.com

Andrew Makarik is the main editor of WeLoveCostaRica, a fan of this sunny country. He is also a loving husband and a has a lovely daughter. By being a devoted family man and the biggest Costa Rica fan, he wants to make more people feel at home there. WeLoveCostaRica unites people and helps them find new home or a new travel destination. This website is a friendly community where everyone can find not only information, but also new friends and travel pals. Andrew is also passionate about IT and programming, so he himself maintains a friendly atmosphere in this cozy environment of WeLoveCostaRica.com.