No. The title of this piece is not what you might think it is, you dirty-minded reader, you.
“What’s wrong with that?” Kabsat Kandu asks. “Bitch, witch, itch, glitch—they’re just words to describe something. The dirt is in the extra thoughts you put into them.”
But really, we’re talking clean unadulterated fun here, I assure my feisty neighbor.
“Bitch” originally meant “the adult female of dogs or other carnivorous mammals.” It still means that, of course, although the word has long evolved to mean certain types of persons with socially questionable behavior.
But here we’re talking about dogs, and how their domestication has affected their deep-most biological urges and, in fact, the future of their species.
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Dogs (and cats as well) have always been part of my life since I learned to walk. My own fond recollections of growing up with pets are confirmed by a number of photos of me as a young child, often posing with the family’s dogs.
Our pets romped in the living room, kitchen, front yard and backyard, and dozed off in whichever favorite spot they chose for that time of day or night.
There was just one taboo: we banned them from going upstairs to the bedrooms. Sometimes they tried, but we boys quickly blocked any such intrusion. We had lots of fun startling them with our boisterous shouts and chasing them as they scrambled back in panic down the stairs, amid our fits of laughter.
Aside from that fun taboo, our dogs could go anywhere they wanted, even roam the streets unleashed and unaccompanied by us. At dawn, they were let out once the family store’s shutters opened; they were called back in when the store closed for the night.
Throughout the day, they were free to mark their territory or take a poop, check out the other street dogs by smelling their posteriors, pick up any interesting scents, chase cats, and bark at strangers. They were generally well-behaved, did not bite anyone who wasn’t hostile, and returned to home base for chow and siesta.
All in all, the dogs of my childhood and youth—and I guess in most Metro Manila households of that time—lived full and productive canine lives with minimal human supervision. They were askals (asong kalsada) and proud of it. They had a sense of freedom, range of mobility, and healthy promiscuity unmatched by today’s generation of pedigreed, cooped-up and pampered pets who wouldn’t survive 48 hours unscathed on the street.
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Our Manang Aning (who remained unmarried and loyally stayed with my parents for half a century) was practically the mother of all the dogs and cats that lived under our roof. She loved pets like no other. She always made sure they had enough food—not the commercial kind, but hefty leftovers from the dining table and extra servings direct from her kitchen stove.
Under Manang Aning’s doting care, we siblings grew up appreciative of her dogs’ canine loyalty and playful company. Their names are too many to remember now. Borobudur, Venus, Patsy, Ramsey, Kulit, Doña Buding, Macarena, Kakas, and Titan are among the most memorable ones. (My cat stories will have to wait for another time.)
“So many names? You had a kennel full of dogs?” Kabsat Kandu asks.
No, we only had one, two, three dogs at most, at any one time. But since we let them roam the streets, as was the general practice, sometimes they fell victim to bad men in the dark riding owner-type jeeps. These arch-enemies of canine society wielded long poles with steel-wire loops and deadly wooden clubs. Or worse, they baited unsuspecting dogs with luscious sandwiches laced with a high dose of MSG. Several of our dogs, in various incidents separated by years, turned desaparecido and most likely became asucena meat that way.
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We simply got new puppies to replace the lost ones. The source of our new puppies? Short answer: the local community of bitches.
When rutting time arrived, bitches strutted on the streets of the neighborhood, sending out scents to signal that they were in heat. This attracted canine Casanovas from all over the place to sniff around, check out the ladies, and make the moves. They would then pair off and copulate in broad daylight, right there on the pavement, to our innocent entertainment and edification as kids.
Then, when the amorous couple finally finished, we’d continue watching them as they slunk away licking off the icky stuff from their dripping nether regions. Many of us learned about sex that way, I’m telling you now.
This also meant our home often hosted litters. I’ve lost count of how many times we kids watched in wonder as our shameless bitches gave birth to mongrel puppies in some corner of the house. After a month or two of weaning them and choosing which ones to keep, we gave the litter away to neighbors, relatives and friends.
“You always found someone who wanted a dog, even before the Facebook era,” Kabsut Kandu notes in agreement.
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While we were an extremely dog-friendly household, we didn’t grieve much over lost pets. Maybe we sat dog-faced for an hour or two, shaking our heads and quietly absorbing our loss in typical Ilocano stoic fashion. Then we shrugged it off, got another puppy, gave it a name, and moved on.
My parents and Manang Aning rarely brought any of our dogs to the vet or give them special medical treatment. “When it’s their time to go, it’s time to go.” That was our philosophy, and it remains mine up to now.
Also, for me, neutering dogs and cats is a hideous practice. Why not allow them to go forth and multiply? You can always find other people—neighbors, friends, classmates—to accept the younglings. If you can’t find any, and there is no PAWS center nearby, you could bring your giveaway litter to the nearest public market. Someone there will always want a kitten or puppy.
A dog’s right to roam the streets is now heavily restricted and endangered in most of Metro Manila. I suppose the trend is fast catching on in other urban areas, although probably not in the vast rural areas.
Our dogs and cats’ freedom to roam the urban and rural wilds, to turn feral when they so decide, and to stand the test of natural selection on their own merits and not on money to pay the vet, is fundamental to their long-term health and survival. The canine and feline masses have the right to have their own say in the evolution of their species.
Just the same, I know of many suburban and semi-rural communities—in Metro Manila and more so in provincial cities—where the old askal and pusakal freedoms remain. There, the local communities of bitches and mollies are as promiscuous and prolific as ever.
I hope they remain that way.#