Monday, December 14, 2009

Interspecies Relationships: Dogs and Cats

Don't you just love interspecies relationships? Not husbands and wives. I'm talking about cats and dogs. Why would a 16 pound cat allow a 125 pound dog to flip him over with her large muzzle and chew at his belly, all the while purring? Why doesn't the dog grab the cat by the neck and shake him, the way she does her stuffed animals? What kind of confidence in the dog, what kind of trust must the cat possess? And where do they come from?

When I say "chew", I mean that Maggie, our 11-month-old Great Dane takes Niger's skin between her front teeth and nibbles his whole body, leaving him a slobbery mess. When she stops, the cat butts her and licks her nose for more.

We think of cats and dogs as natural enemies. Cats are small, like rabbits and rats, a dog's prey. Even little Terriers catch badgers. Cats run when confronted, inviting chase. It's a rare, brave cat who stands his/her ground with a dog and spits and swats his face. Cats inhabit entirely different territory from dogs - in their heads and their habits. Cats prowl. Dogs lope and sniff. Cats can self-feed. Dogs gobble. Cats are self-contained, particular. Dogs are devoted and gregarious. A catpark would never work. Cats are loose and languorous. Dogs are taut. You can't drape a dog around your neck, though he/she would probably love it. If they weren't domesticated, cats' and dogs' paths likely wouldn't cross. But they do: in our kitchens, on our sofas, on our beds. And it's this accepting, often affectionate arrangement that intrigues me.

Niger, a black Siamese/Abyssinian cross, weighed about a pound when we got him. He was so fragile, he felt like a hairy mass of pipe cleaners. At the time, we had our first blue Great Dane, Lily. She was a rescue, six months old when we found her and for awhile she was aggressive, not with us, but with all other people. When Niger arrived, Lily was a year old and she weighed 120 pounds.

It astounds me now, but I never considered that Lily might be a danger to Niger. Lily loomed over him, curious but not menacing. Niger initially spit and spat but he didn't budge. Lily seemed to respect that and they became friends, not simply tolerant friends but close friends. That tiny kitten always curled into her where she slept, prodding her for comfort. They walked around outside together and Lily never chased him. It wasn't accord, it was attachment.

Niger was 9 when we got 3-month-old Maggie. Niger is massive. Maggie was not much larger, but she had puppy power. She was bold with the cat, putting her large paw on his back, practically crushing him. Occasionally Niger would run to escape and Maggie would give chase but soon that stopped and the crazy teeny bites began. Niger submitted with seeming pleasure as he does every day, until one of them gets bored, (usually Maggie).

We've had 2 Irish Wolfhounds, an Irish Setter/ Newfoundland cross and two Great Danes. We've even had a Bichon. And we've always had several cats with them. And everyone got along. Our Bichon actually had a cozy relationship with a Siamese, Yo-Yi. But never have I seen the kind of "intimacy" that Niger has had with both Lily and Maggie where their instinctive boundaries disappear and the animals exist on a plane removed from their normal species' behavior. It's as if each actually loses some specific, essential characteristics and he/she becomes "other". We can't figure it out and they don't need to. They just snuggle and lick with the tight assurance of litter-mates.

Niger is one of those cats who gets the ultimate feline compliment: "He thinks he's a dog." He comes when he's called, he listens and talks back, he gives kisses, he's obnoxiously friendly with guests. His affection is insatiable. He hugs. He gives as good as he gets.

Lily was a big dog. Maggie is bigger. Their breed is known for its docility. But Great Danes also hunted large game, so they have a pursuing instinct. They were also war dogs. Lily could have killed Niger and Maggie still could. In fact, I'm not sure that if the dogs were outdoors and saw a cat, they wouldn't chase it and likely kill it if they caught it. Inside, Maggie almost attacks the glass when our neighbour's cat walks by.

So why the love for Niger? Is it the individual animal or the household? Have the dogs and Niger somehow adapted their primal behavior because of us, because of our gentle, firm, consistent treatment of them? Is it super-love by example? No specific training was used. Acceptance was pretty much immediate. The love came later.

I say love because I don't know what else to call it. I'm not sure dogs and especially cats feel love as we know it. Do we fill them past brimming the way they do us? Is the connection deeper than simply food, petting and a comfortable place to sleep? What does a cat get from a dog and vice-versa?

They must give each other something for the loving to exist. Maggie nibbles Niger. Niger purrs. Something must be going on.

And they're always glad to see each other. Niger weaves in and out of Maggie's legs, stroking his body. She nudges him, tail thwapping. If they're glad to see each other, it must mean they've missed each other, wouldn't you think?

The only answer I have is what my eyes tell me.

No comments:

Post a Comment