Animal Rules!

Yes, indeed.
Animals rule this universe.

One need not look far to realize
that in spite of all these high-powered
human hoo-ha, lies the human's penchant
for anything of my animalistic kind . . .

Humans look to animal guides
to consult their annual trends
for business or romantic moves
based on the 12 animals who
went to Buddha . . . or something.

So they call it the year of the -
(hold your drool, fellas)
rat, monkey, goat, snake, pig
dragon, and tata - dogs!
I heard the year of the dog
brings indolence and extravagance
the contrast of anything and
everything . . . canine.


Keeper consults her daily horoscope
which again are patterned after animals:
pisces (fish), aries (ram), taurus (bull),
cancer (crab), leo (lion), scorpio,
and OMG, there's no dog sign!?!
I bet if there was, it would again
be about being born in conflict
between laziness and abundance. . .


When I watch keeper read the papers
and she gets to the cartoon section
aha, animals galore again!
There's Garfield (cat), Guyito (carabao),
Pugad Baboy (Polgas as pet pig/spy/analyst, etc.)
and alas, there's Buckles (a dog, what else!)


Of course, the main news feature
K9 dogs doing rescue work,
sniffing for illegal drugs
(not to mention ladies wear! cool it guys!),
fat cat Oscar who can predict death,
a dog who became rich from inheritance (!),
and wild animals roaming the city
and getting trapped in pollution
and the cruel, angry world. . .


But that's OK, since the art world
would feature animal movies
in animation and real time
(keeper once watched 48 degrees
and shamelessly cried buckets!)
and now, there's Underdog
showing in all theaters tomorrow.

What?!? Keeper, is that true? Yep.

Keeper, when you make me a movie
I want one that say anything super
like "Superdog", "MightyDog", etc.
Fat chance!



Pica woke up from her deep, lazy sleep
and asked what the commotion is about:
I told her: "it's a rat race, mumsy!"
I want to be "free as a bird"
so I can "soar like an eagle" . . .


To which, Pica shook her regal head
and stuck an amused tongue at me:

Nonsense.
You are free, my bebe!
and you would not want to soar, believe me
nor do you want to be part of the rat race. . .
Go take a nap, sweetie, and have a life . . .
So I can get back to mine . . .


Poof.
Animal poofer.