Pet Monologues

Inside the cells of every pet cat lies a history book, a story detailing the journey from the wilds of Asia to the comforts of a windowsill perch.

Combining the fields of genetics and archeology, scientists have cracked open the book to find that cat domestication occurred near the beginning of human civilization, long before many previous archeological estimates. The circumstances of this early association between man and cat may explain the friendly but tenuous truce between felines and humans.

Published Friday in the journal Science, the research used DNA from modern house cats to trace the origin of domestic cats back to a specific time and region thatcoincided with the settlement of humans in the Middle East region known as the Fertile Crescent. Read the rest of this entry »

Photo of myself in the same wheelbarrow with a now full-grown Sparky.

Sparky was a gift to me from my father on my 8th birthday: July 29, 1955. This was a year after our last dog, Kim, was killed by a car.

Sparky was six weeks old, born on June 17. I think I remember that because Pop’s birthday was July 17 and Mom and Pop’s aniversary was August 17. I think Pop chose Sparky because he had the same coloring as Kim: white with a black head and highlights of brown around he eyes. He also had a black spot on his back. Neutering male dogs was hardly ever done in those days, so naturally I spent a lot of time chasing after Sparky, just like I did chasing after Kim. Unlike Kim, however, Sparky would come eventually, but only when Mom called him. Although I loved Sparky like a brother, he was more of a mama’s dog. That’s probably also because Mom was better at feeding him. Read the rest of this entry »

Hospital plans to unleash animal-assisted therapy.

Like other hospitals that have used animal-assisted therapy to help patients reduce stress and heal faster, Northwest Community Hospital is recruiting dogs and owners interested in volunteering for a new program expected to begin in August.

“The animals provide a unique dimension of care that is unlike any other therapy around,” said Diane Colville, manager of cardiopulmonary rehabilitation at the Arlington Heights hospital. Read the rest of this entry »

How to deal with controversy? Maybe talking about it will bring positive results. I just read in the morning Chicago Tribune how a three-year old pit bull had to be put down by the owner for killing a neighbor’s dog, an 11-year old lab. It reminded me of a jogger killed by ferel pits in Chicago two years ago. In my very brief research this dog has many support groups such as Pit Bull Rescue Central and there is factual evidence that this dog as a breed has a more positive temperment than a lab as cited in American Temperament Testing Society which comes as quite a shock to most of us.

I have met this dog up close on occasion via friends who own one or more. If you like large, powerful-looking dogs, you have got to like a pit bull. The owner’s will say that a pit bull with issues though raises a red flag. You might say the same thing about many people who can cause considerable damage to life or limb if you know what I mean.

But something is not right here. If you have a pit bull and wish to take it to the Humane Society, they will probably put the dog down, no questions asked. If you are lucky I guess, they will tell you so up front. And maybe we agree that most news reported today is of a tragic nature. If there is a dog in the story, this dog always seems to be in the vicinity of these stories. Stories about attacks, mauling, break-in by police, neighbor complaints, fighting, and death.

Is the pit bull to blame? Is the pit bull a loaded gun? A drunken driver? Can the pit bull live peaceably in our society?

I woke up at 6:30 this morning to take my ex-roommate’s cat to the vet. I guess he’s my cat now. His name is Max and he’s a very skinny orange tabby cat. He came complete with a fifteen second memory span and he has only one facial expression, which is blank. I often wonder if he was somebody’s genetic cloning experiment. That or if he is suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome. He’s just a living cat with barely a hint of character.

I’m trying to give him a personality but it’s difficult. I wonder if my techniques are working. The first technique is to hold him tightly against my chest and speak nonsense to him, kiss his face really hard, and then let him jump out of my arms to freedom. This does not seem to have any effect on him. He just looks mildly bewildered. The second technique is to spank his rump playfully. Again, there’s not much response. Not even the cliché look of superiority most normal cats constantly wear. But I haven’t picked Max up in days and have hardly petted him. I’ve even locked him out of my room. I’m disgusted by him right now. To get my mind off him I think about today’s homework. My teacher wants me to write about something I know a lot about. I glance at a picture of Evan, framed and sitting on my nightstand, where I can see it every night before I go to sleep. I think about Evan’s life and its tragic ending. I wonder if I should write about him. Read the rest of this entry »

This is a story about two twenty-something women, friends, sharing an apartment. This is a true story but names have been changed as you have come to expect. Jane worked at an electronics manufacturer. Mary worked at a book publishing company. Jane was a bit of a home body. Mary was usually out and about. It came to pass that Jane’s boss needed a cat sitter as he was going on vacation. Read the rest of this entry »

What’s the Big Deal?
Ah, the pitter patter of four-legged feet as they whip through your living room at overclocked speeds or uproot your prize gladiolas with manic fervor. But Snookiepuss and Mrs. Fluffypants are practically family, right?

So why should they settle for anything less than top drawer when their health and wellbeing are at stake? Throw the planet a bone while you’re at it; we’ve got the goods on how to reduce your pets’ carbon paw prints—without making your wallet roll over and play dead. Read the rest of this entry »

If you have pets, you may have wondered whether they know what you’re thinking. Perhaps your cat hides when you start planning a trip to the vet. Or maybe your dog runs in circles when you think about going out to play. Both of these events can have logical explanations. Your cat might have heard you pull the carrier off the shelf; your dog must have seen you glance at a favorite ball. Read the rest of this entry »

We are flying from Long Beach on Jet Blue, our first flying experience with the upstart. We flew in from Chicago for a surprise birthday party for a beloved cousin and a long getaway weekend with family and friends. The last night cousin David showed us a six-month effort at digitizing old family photos that went back four generations. Memories came back in a flood of emotion and wonder as we revisited cherished photos and ones we had never seen before. In many of the photos were our pets that in some cases marked milestones in our lives. On the plane I decided to recreate the comings and goings of my pet dogs. Read the rest of this entry »

Listen, I get that you’re a cat. I’m actually OK with all that. I like not having to take you on 5am walks or to pry a slobbery, grass-caked tennis ball out of your food hole only to throw it again so that you can have a cheap thrill. You’re above all that. But still…gimme a break, shithead!

It’s like, I’m minding my own business, asleep in my bed, totally dreaming about pizza, and you lay down on my face! Hey, ass butt, news flash: I need that to breath and live! Don’t sleep on it! Shit! Also I can smell your butt when you do that, because your idiot moron cat brain makes you think that I might actually WANT to smell it (which I totally don’t) so you deftly position it right in front of my nose. Here’s a shocker, my friend - your butt smells bad! It smells like a butt that just got pooped out of! DIARRHEA pooped out of. I’m no vet, but you should get that checked out. I know the whole barbed johnson thing makes gettin’ some a bit less complicated for you, but I can tell you from personal experience that girls don’t want to be constantly reminded that you have an asshole and poop comes out of it. Read the rest of this entry »