Dr. Do-Nat-tle

While hanging out with Nat one day, she showed me a long list of requirements she has for the guy of her dream. There’s the pre-requisite that he must be a Christian, must be a guy, musical, plays at least an instrument, likes kids, tall dark and handsome. (I probably made some up as I typed). Tucked away on those lines and lines of ideals of her man was an animal lover.

I like animals, from afar. I like to watch them on National Geographic channel, in the zoo, securely caged and far away from human contact. Oh, did I mention I like fishes too? I get lost just staring at them wiggle their way inside the confines of the acquarium. That’s the extent of my love for animals. When animals come into contact with humans, things can get pretty unpredictable.

Let’s talk about cats. The last time I had any involvement with them was spalishing cold water at cats at 5 a.m. Those nerve wracking, spine chilling cat calls can make a statue shiver. Then there’s the problem with cat pooh, on my driveway.

If cats’ only contact with me was their smell and noise, dogs, on the other hand, love to pounce, lick, and heaven forbid, bite.

Well, enough about cats and dogs. Ever since being with Dr. Do-Nat-tle who sometimes make me about my ranking with those cutty furballs. I notice that she has cunningly tried to seduce me into liking the animals she likes. More than twice I was reluctantly dragged to observe newly born kittens, mother cats, ugly cats and gay cat. (Yes, she knows cats the best). More than twice I was left dumbfounded watching human to animal communications. Her strategy is two-pronged, (i) maximum exposure and (ii) maximum seduction.

(i) maximum exposure includes being cajoled to pet shops, seeing kittens, dogs, rabits, hamsters.
(ii) maximum seduction (by the animals, ahem!) means trying to get the cute little kitties into my well guarded no-animal heart.

I hate to admit, but it seems to be working. *cries*