Hormones, artificial and the real thing

WILD CHILD Manohra has certainly been tamed by the hormone injection she received last week.

The cat seems to have stopped (or at least slowed down) her need to urinate wherever she wishes.

Her female scent, heightened by the hormone injection, continues, but despite admiring gazes from the boys in the cat-herd, she’d still like to attack Yoyo or Phantom, or both boys.

So, the situation is better, but not perfect. Modern science can’t solve every problem, can it, not even next door, where Mee, the part-chow, has gone into heat.

I had my tiny poodle Wan-Wan neutered after her very first heat six or seven years ago, but Khun J, Mee’s owner, has steadfastly refused to let her own girl have the Operation.

At first, J said that she didn’t want Mee to get fat, the way neutered dogs do. It didn’t matter if I told her, or if the vet told her, or if anyone told her that a neutered dog gets fat because the owner gives the dog too much food.

J, however, firmly believes that she must feed Mee as much as possible, and the dog is already fat, even without neutering.

Now J says that Mee, who’s near Wan’s age, is too old for the Operation anyway. She’s probably right. As a large breed, in doggie terms, Mee is already approaching her senior years, and at her age, such an operation would be dangerous for her.

“Mee will die in two or three years,” J says. “It would be a waste of money to have her undergo something that might kill her.”

When Mee goes into heat, J simply keeps her in the patio for two weeks or so until the heat passes.

Now, every soi dog in the neighbourhood has started to drop by the patio for some time with the sexy girl.

Mee is extremely happy. Through the gate, she and her boyfriends touch noses and jump around excitedly.

I’m relieved that Wan’s own friend, the chihuahua Luckie who is also unneutered, has not been showing up. He’s so tiny, the other dogs could kill him easily. Perhaps his owners have finally decided not to let him wander the sois by himself.

My poor Wan is not so ecstatic. She’d like to be involved in all this happiness, but since she’s neutered, the boys are not so interested. They’d much rather be around Mee.

Wan sits by my gate, whining and barking, but the boys ignore her. To me, she looks almost broken-hearted, a dog not used to being a wall-flower.

 The dogs haven’t started fighting yet. They’re friendly, jumping around me when I go outside my gate. They’re well-fed too. Maybe they’re not soi dogs but communal dogs, fed by people on the sois who like having them around.

I doubt, though, if they’ve been vaccinated against the terrible contagious diseases dogs can pass to each other. Besides, they could be carrying ticks or fleas, and although I give Wan a treatment against skin parasites every month, she could still carry these unwanted pests inside my house, where they could lurk for months or even years, waiting for a suitable host.

While the boys show so much interest in Mee, my own dog isn’t safe. We can’t go out on walks until Mee stops being in heat.

When J yells at them, they move away from the gate and gather around my gate instead, sticking their noses through the openings.

They don’t stay long. Mekhala, my dog-hating cat, sees those moist, brown noses and slashes with sharp little claws. With cries, the dogs move away, only to return in the early morning, before J and Mekhala are awake.