Ruminating on Animal Experimentation while Reviewing Project X

In keeping with the current list on the Mike-Kate Video Club, I recently watched Project X with Matthew Broderick (two of the films on the list star Broderick: War Games and Ferris Bueller's Day Off).

The movie surprised me, mostly for how much I got invested in the fate of the chimps.

For those of you who don't remember, the plot of Project X is that chimpanzees are being trained to fly machines, then exposed to lethal amounts of radiation to see how much longer they will keep flying. Pilot Jimmy Garrett decides to save a particular chimp, Virgil.

I should state now, upfront, that I am not opposed to animal experimentation. I think it is kind of pointless with things like cosmetics. I think it is downright meritorious with things like cancer research.

I should also state that I have never been a huge fan of anthropomorphizing animals in fiction or real life. In fiction, I run out of interest. In real life, I think it is unfair and disrespectful to the animal. A cat is a cat, not a human in fur. Chimpanzees, no matter how many genes they hold in common with humans, are chimpanzees.

By the way, the respecting-animals-for-being-animals-not-cute-humans ideology doesn't prevent me from eating steak.

So I basically anticipated that Project X would be a long screed about how bad and immoral and evil animal experimentation is blah, blah, blah. (I saw it when I was younger but had forgotten everything except that monkeys--well, chimps--were involved.)

It isn't a long screed. Yeah sure, that message is in there. But the message relies not on stoic idealists spouting their opinions but on the viewer becoming invested in the chimpanzees' fate.

This actually works. I was stunned. I was sad when Goliath died--I think I actually cried. I was worried about the chimps getting away. I wanted them to be free!

This is all due to how the story is told--from the inside out. The audience learns things as Garrett (Broderick) learns and experiences things. He gets interested in teaching Virgil. He sees the radiation test. He is uncomfortable with it. The entire story unfolds as a slow emotional web that gets you invested without telling you to get invested.

The one off-note is when Broderick tries to stop the second test (on Virgil) by breaking in on the head honchos and arguing against it. In terms of plot, the scene makes sense. Garrett isn't put forward as an orator or a protester. He just doesn't want the animal he trained to die.

And he makes the same argument that, what do ya know, Broderick's character made in War Games: "You can't compare the chimps to humans; the chimps will keep flying, but the humans won't because they will know they are going to die."

The first part of this argument is actually correct: You can't compare the reaction of chimps to humans--and a computer model quite frankly would be more effective here (computer models are used instead of animal testing quite often these days).

The second part of the argument is wrong, and it is the one false note in the movie. Well, okay, the sign language and flying-the-plane stuff is a little out there, but the movie establishes those outcomes as givens, so I accept them.

But otherwise, the chimps in the movie actually act just like chimps (and at one point, trash the lab, which is  fun). They act, in other words, like animals rather than humans.

And animals do not do well with stress. Animals do not do well with illness. Animals will die from straight shock and pain.

Humans, on the other hand, can go amazingly heroic things despite extraordinarily adverse conditions because their brains decide that they should. They keep flying because they believe they are protecting something higher (their country). They live longer because they believe they have a purpose. They fight the effects of illness because they don't want others to pay for their mistakes.

Believing that animals should be treated humanely is a civilized belief. But it immediately loses credence when people try to tell me animals are as good as or better than humans. Animals are animals, and if they were ever actually tried by the moral standards of humans, they would all be labeled psychopaths. When a young lion takes over an older lion's pack, he doesn't send the older lion to a retirement home or give it charity antelopes. He basically forces the older lion to starve itself to death.

Okay, put that in human terms and think about how it makes you feel.

Ewwww is the normal reaction.

But as animals, lions--and chimpanzees--can be utterly adorable, and Project X is a well-told story, using adorable (trained) animals, that never forgets to be a story.

I'm starting to think the 1980's has a lot to say for itself in terms of strong film narratives!

I Am Now an Examiner!

I recently became an Examiner at Examiner.com. Examiner.com is a cross between About.com and a local news outlet (like Maine Today.com).

I am a Portland Cats Examiner. As far as I can tell, I am the only one currently posting though I suspect this will change. My approach is more advice-oriented than news-oriented, but I do include links to local businesses, etc.

My first article is "So, You Want to Get a Kitten." A related article "There's a New Kitten in the House: What to Do" will follow at the end of this week.

The Portland Cats' page has been added to Votaries's Related Links. Over the next few months, I will be posting about Emergency Services, toys, cat names, gross medical problems, etc. etc. etc. If you have any ideas or any particular topic you'd like to see addressed, I'm collecting as many as I can!

Cats and Death

My cat, Max, died this morning at about 10:30 a.m. (July 26, 2010). I had him put down.

I'm writing this partly because writing helps me work things out but also because I want this post out there for anyone who ever feels as overwhelmed and anxious as I did about this decision. There's a lot of different opinions on the web about cat care; over the past week, I think I've read and synthesized most of it.

Although this was not the first time I'd seen a pet die, it was the first time that (1) the decision lay on my shoulders; (2) the cat's condition wasn't something I'd encountered before. Max had been failing for several months (rapidly over the course of the last week), but he wasn't actually paralyzed and occasionally looked alert.

What happened first?

First, I got Max in October 1996. I was living with my parents at the time, and I got him on Peaks Island. He was the friendliest of a group of kittens I went to look at. My older cat, Aurora, demonstrated some maternal instincts when he first showed up after which she promptly decided he was nuts. They more or less got along over the past 14 years.

Max continued to be the friendlier of the two cats although Aurora has livened up as she has gotten older! But Max always had to be where people were, investigating them and their stuff. He also wanted affection on a pretty constant basis: my high-maintenance cat. He was the kind of cat who would beg you for food, eat a couple of bites, and then rush back into the room to climb all over you. There were times when I thought he was going to climb inside my skin, he wanted affection so bad.

The first sign of trouble was this May when Max had labored breathing. The emergency animal clinic put him on prednisone which seemed to help; however, about the middle of June, he stopped eating. I switched from dry to wet food and got him to eat a few times a day. He began to get very weak in his back legs. He was no longer grooming himself, so I did that; he would still visit the litter box.

This past week, he stopped eating entirely unless I forced him though he would drink. He also began to search out hiding places. This, of course, was a radical personality change from the Max I was used to.

This weekend, he began to wheeze while laying on his side. He seemed to be in a catatonic state rather than asleep.

He did not cry although picking him up in certain ways obviously hurt him. Animals do not always show when they are in pain (they certainly don't have signs, saying, "Excuse me, I'm in pain"), but I formed the conclusion that he was.

Late Saturday night, I questioned whether I should take him to the emergency clinic to be euthanized even though I had just had his records moved to a regular veterinarian and wanted to take him there. After doing some research on the web, I formed the conclusion that he might die at home (which might be best) and that if he didn't, waiting until Monday to be absolutely sure he wasn't going to improve was the best option.

This morning, Monday, his condition was the same except he was slightly perkier (the weather is cooler). I made the appointment and took him in.

From my perspective, Max was very unhappy. However, based on the stuff I had read on the Internet, he certainly didn't look like a desiccated, hair-matted, eyes-filmed-over, at-death's-door cat. A part of me thought, Maybe, it is just asthma. We'll be going home with medication in two ticks.

However, I kept reiterating to the staff that I didn't want him to be put through lots of complicated and anxiety-producing tests. I would be doing it for me—and I was perfectly capable of doing it for me: What's VISA for?—not for him.

The extremely experienced vet (The Cat Doctor in Portland, Maine) was wonderful. She was practical and sympathetic without being maudlin or feeding me any "this is what you should have done" or "this is what GOOD owners do" stuff. It was clear within a few minutes that to her, Max's quality of life was so diminished that keeping him alive would be more for me than for Max. We took him into a room where she did a cursory exam (to make me happy, I think), and she was able to state that his problems were likely lung and/or heart-related and not the types of problems that could be cured or even managed without causing the cat a great deal of distress.

That wasn't what I wanted, so I gave the go ahead for him to be euthanized.

The Internet made it sound like he would be hooked up to some crazy machine, but she actually did it right there, right then. She pulled out a needle, already prepared (over the phone, I had put forward the possibility that Max would need to be put down, and she actually had two needles with her), and inserted it. She told me that there might be a brief struggle as the animal felt himself falling to sleep. But actually, Max didn't struggle at all. He was gone in less than two minutes without a complaint.

By the way, The Cat Doctor has tissue boxes ALL OVER THE CLINIC.

My options were to take the body with me, have a private cremation, or have a group cremation.

My parents offered to bury Max on the island which would have been appropriate, but I really didn't want to carry my dead cat around Portland. The idea of keeping an urn of my animal's ashes is thoroughly creepy. I opted for the group cremation and to have a mold made of Max's paw print.

The whole visit cost $100. I feel this is very reasonable although I realize other people may want cheaper options. Based on my Internet research, some shelters will euthanize for free. However, most vets charge around $50 for euthanasia and $50 for cremation (more, for personal cremation).

So what about my older cat, Aurora?

She's extremely healthy physically (she's two years older than Max, being 16). In terms of her mental? instinctual? state, I'm not sure. She has ignored Max over the last two months. Animals can tell when other animals are dying; Aurora was actually, probably, the best indicator I had for how far gone he was, I just didn't see it.

She loves that I now serve wet food (mixed with dry).

Whether she will miss him or not, I have no idea. When she wanders around the house, it is hard to know if she is looking for Max or hoping I left some food out somewhere.

People say pets grieved, but I'm very wary of believing what people say about their pets: so often, it seems that the wish precedes the evidence. They want to see their own grief reflected in the remaining animal. The animal may actually be reacting more to the owner's emotional/instinct-based aura than to anything else.

In which case, Aurora is just going to have to suffer. Sorry. But I miss Max like crazy; I can't just switch it off.

How about another pet?

It is very tempting to go out TODAY and get a little kitten. But I'm opposed to that course of action for three reasons. The first is that I wouldn't be replacing Max; I would be trying to soothe my feelings. And the new kitten wouldn't BE Max. (This would be true even if I cloned Max; the new kitten would be itself; I've never understood why people think that two things are the same just because they share the same DNA. This isn't a nature or nurture thing. It's just a reality thing.)

Second, according to Cesar Millan, when an animal comes into a grieving household, it doesn't say, "Oh, I am so sorry for you all. How sad!"

It says, "These creatures are weak. Weak creatures are bad. I must control them!"

Or, rather, it doesn't think at all. It just does it.

I don't want a new kitten running my house. In any case, it deserves more equilibrium.

Finally, I have a more steady paycheck in the fall. New kittens cost!

Still, the new vet is all lined up!

Conclusion

To conclude, if you have an ill/dying/unhappy cat, and you are really worried about what direction to go . . . I can't really tell you except you should trust your observations. One of the websites I read said, "My vet told me I would know when it was time." In retrospect, this is totally correct.

It is retrospect. However, when I told the vet, "I've been expecting him to be dead every morning over the last few days," she replied that when an owner feels this, it is likely time for the pet to go. I think this is close to what I read: the owner knows better than anyone what quality of life the animal is used to.

If you are worried that the vet will berate you for choosing euthanasia, the good ones won't. They will give you multiple options. If I had walked in there and said, "I want the full work-up! Save his life at all costs!!" they would have done it (as much as they could, at least). But it would have been the wrong decision, and the vet was very clear about where Max stood health-wise.

If you are worried that the process is ultra-expensive, it isn't although you can make it ultra-expensive! I feel that I gave Max dignity without sacrificing my checkbook to some ridiculous extravaganza that would make me feel . . . well, just as bad actually since it wouldn't bring him back. (If I were more solvent, I would have gone with the private cremation and sprinkled his ashes on Peaks Island; I don't think Mom's tulips would have minded. But I will never keep an urn of anyone's ashes in my house. I understand bones; bones are cool. Dirt is just dirt. And, in truth, I kind of like the idea of my cat being cremated with lots of other animals: it's a circle of life thing.)

And finally, if you are worried that it is painful for the animal, from what I witnessed, it wasn't at all. My vet did let me stay with Max which I'm not sure I would have been able to do if I'd taken him to the emergency clinic. He was calm when he got the injection, and I pet him until he passed. They also did all the administrative business in the room, so I didn't have to go bawl in the waiting area which made me very grateful.

Max was a really good cat, and he had a really good life. R.I.P.

More about Animal Psychology

So I tried once again to read a book about cat psychology and got so fed up at its silliness, I threw the book on the floor.

But not very hard because it was a library book.

I won't give the book's title because it is unfair to pick on one book when so many cat books are like this. There are probably many silly dog books out there too, but dog lovers—at least—seem to include objective/Cesar Millan-type trainers and owners. Cat lovers, in general, seem far less willing to accept that cats are, well, just cats.

The thing that annoyed me (within the first chapter) was the belief that (1) cats understand language; (2) cats feel affection.

I don't completely dismiss (1) because I don't actually know if they do or don't. What I do know is that cats, like dogs, respond more to body language and tone of voice than to words. The writer gives an example of a cat following a command. The writer does not even consider that the cat may have responded to the tone of voice, the situation, or the writer's physical action (or, even more likely, a combination of the tone of voice/situation/physical action). The writer immediately jumps to the conclusion, "The cat understands me!"

This is why cat lovers make me tired.

Cats react to body language and energy like any animal. When I first moved into my last apartment, my cat Max would initially whine to go out when I was in bed, half-asleep. (I do agree with the writer that cats are entirely motivated by the desire for food; unlike my current apartment, the front door in my last apartment wasn't a tight fit, and I suppose he wanted to investigate the possibility of food on the other side.) I would get up and spray him with water or slap his behind. (Don't get mad yet, cat lovers; it probably wasn't the most effective correction, but it worked!)

The point is he knew the difference between me getting up mad, me getting up to go pee, and me getting up because it was the next morning even before I acted (or reacted); he would immediately run, keep sleeping, or go to the food bowl. I never had to say a word. Frustrated/sleepy/fed-up human doesn't feel like sleepy/indifferent human in the slightest.

I also do not believe, even remotely, that cats feel affection.

I don't mean they don't give affection. And I don't mean they don't love. I think love is instinctual while affection is a reasoned response.

The writer uses the absurd example that cats will feel affection and gratitude for their prey. Are you kidding me? I don't care how nice lions are to the dead antelope. They aren't thinking warm & fuzzy thoughts, especially since they will rip your arm off if you get too close. This is a very, very good example of a human reading a human emotion into an action that appears human BUT ISN'T. Tenderness can be read into a human patting someone's face because all the subjects involved (reader and readee) are human. Reading such emotions into a cat's behavior is completely unfair to the cat. It's very similar to the humans on Cesar's show reading manipulation or affection into the dog's frantic desire to be petted when, as Cesar points out and proves, the dog's frantic desire to be petted is the dog's need for its humans to take control of its life and stop making it run the household all by itself!

I would imagine that a cat "tenderly" patting a dead antelope's face is the cat checking to make sure the antelope is really dead. I would also guess that a cat licking a dead antelope's face is the cat working off excess energy and calming itself. (I've read, and believe, that cats will purr when highly stressed, such as when giving birth or being operated on. Licking appears to have a similar function. My cats have calmed down from an alarm or a fever when I forced them to lick by smearing butter or anti-hairball gel on their paws. It is actually very effective and shows that licking and/or purring are probably more instinctual responses to fear and/or stress than signs of affection.)

Okay, sure, the cat looks peaceful lying next to the dead antelope. It just expended an enormous amount of energy killing its supper. When animals complete tasks, they look relaxed. But that isn't the same thing as a human relaxing after a good therapy session! The cat isn't relaxed because it feels emotion or gratitude; it's relaxed because its instincts have been satisfied.

I think a great deal of anthropomorphizing is the human need to be loved (which is stronger, even, than the human need to be needed). When Cesar talks to pet owners, there is almost always initial resistance; the dog's bouncy behavior CAN'T be the result of stress; it MUST be a sign of affection. I also think that often the humans are resistant to Cesar's instructions (at first) because in their heart of heart they are proud to have an animal that snaps at others to protect its owner. There's a kind of bragging involved when the owners say, "She just hates us to leave her! She whines all the time we are gone!"

Animals are such an easy way to obtain unconditional love. But then sole control of the food bowl tends to have that effect. My skepticism (or cynicism, depending on your point of view) doesn't mean I think animals aren't cute and cuddly. Animals cuddle like crazy. My cats gravitate to me whenever I'm in the apartment (except at the computer which they have learned means I'm unavailable). Cats may not be pack animals, but they still react at a primal level. At a volunteer vet clinic in Mexico that spades/neuters cats and dogs, Cesar pointed out how much more comfortable the recovering animals were sleeping all together. This was due to necessity: it was a temporary clinic and the animals had to be put where there was space, but Cesar was right: animals are much more comfortable in groups than in separate cages. Male lions may operate as lone leaders, but they do have their seraglios.

By the way, I'm still very skeptical of cat lovers but based on a brief perusal, Mieshelle Nagelschneider at the Cat Behavioral Clinic (see comment to post below) doesn't appear completely besotted. For one thing, she states, "Cats are motivated by what's in it for them." Yup! Please don't tell me they feel affection for me. I'm much more likely to believe they need me than they feel gratitude for me (if they felt gratitude, they would empty the litter box themselves).

I've Become a Whisperee!

I saw Cesar Millan in action for the first time on an episode of Bones. Playing himself, Cesar walks into a barn of killer dogs, makes his famous, "Tsst" sound, and they all immediately quieten down.

I rolled my eyes slightly, went, "Oh, Hollywood," and didn't think much more about it.

About a week ago, I picked up Season 1 of the Dog Whisperer (starring Cesar Millan) from my local library. Here's the amazing thing: Quieting a barn of killer dogs may seem improbable. With Cesar, it isn't impossible.

Seriously. (Although I suspect the dogs in Bones may have been from his own pack.)

I've become seriously addicted to the show and not because I learn something new every episode. Basically, by the time you've watched the first three episodes, you know Cesar's philosophy and what each owner needs to hear (such as, "Walk your dog!"). It's kind of like listening to radio psychologists. Yup, now Dr. Laura will tell another stupid woman not to move in with a guy who has a history of hitting women. Ho hum.

The difference is that someday I want to grow up and be Cesar. (I don't particularly want to be a radio psychologist.) Sure, he's talking about dogs, but he is also talking about group psychology. All the stuff he says about being "calm assertive" and "a pack leader" . . . I just sit there and lap it up--like somehow if I hear it enough times, it will translate into automatic results (yes, I know this doesn't work; yes, the pun was deliberate).

I also, by the way, happen to agree with Cesar about dogs. I've never thought of animals, including my cats, as little humans with fur. Ever. My cats don't think like me. They don't learn like me. They don't function like me. They're CATS! (Speaking of which, does anyone know of a Cat Whisperer?)

And dogs are dogs: pack animals, bred to the bone to respond to the top dog. And here's the thing: they WANT to. I always kind of suspected this, but like most warm and fuzzy humans, I had this idea that an overexcited, running around dog was a happy dog.

It isn't, and if I didn't believe that before, I believe it now.

To clarify: a running-after-a-ball-when-pack-leader-throws-it is a happy dog; a bouncing-all-over-visitors-and-chewing-slippers-because-I-don't-get-enough-exercise dog is not.

Unlike humans, dogs WANT to follow (or, at least, dogs admit it). They WANT a pack leader who is in charge. One of the most touching aspects of the show (that is rarely remarked on) is how the dogs in a household will automatically gravitate to Cesar. This is before he starts working with them. He walks in; he establishes dominance; the dogs immediately range themselves around him. He doesn't touch them, pat them, or make eye contact. A human would be offended. The dogs are relieved. They usually take a nap.

For example, in a Season 3 episode, (yes, I am working through them as quickly as I can), Cesar enters a room with two large dogs (Rottweilers, I think). He establishes dominance with his "calm assertive" presence. The dogs stop whining and charging the door. Cesar turns to the camera to talk and then kneels down to demonstrate doggy behavior. Behind him, the two dogs immediately also "sit". They want to conform. They ain't human! (There's no "But I want to express my independent self!!" stuff going on here!)

Cesar is also a kid whisperer, by the way. In another Season 3 episode, Cesar showed a mom how to open a door while holding her four month old and keeping the family dog at bay (so it doesn't charge visitors). Cesar demonstrated by taking the four month old. The kid slumped peacefully against his shoulder. As soon as the exercise finished, the mom quickly took her child back. It's one thing to let Cesar walked off with your dog; another to let him walk off with your kid!

Three more thoughts (I could go on and on, but I don't want to be too much of a groupie [says the non-dog]):

1. Why do people who perform services for dogs act so wimpy around them?

I don't mean the owners; I mean vets and trainers (other than Cesar who is really a human trainer as in "I will train you to take care of your dog!"). I'm amazed at the number of owners who have had bad luck with trainers and vets. I had such an experience a few years ago: I went into the vet with my cats; one of them hissed and waved his claws around. The vet freaked: "Get out the cage! Get out the muzzle!"

Wimp.

I clip my cats' nails. I've syringe their ears. I give them pills. I pick them up and remove them from places I don't want them to be. So I get scratched now and then or bitten. So what? If I didn't want that to happen, I wouldn't have cats. Why would anyone become a vet if they were that easily frightened of animals?

It continually impresses me how willing Cesar is to put the animal's needs over a few scratches and bites.

2. Why do people who don't want to walk dogs get large dogs!?

According to Cesar, even small dogs want to be walked (this makes sense), but I have never, never, NEVER understood why ANYONE would get a large dog and then shut it up in a yard. Whadja get it for?

I happen to like large dogs, such as German Shepherds. But I will never own one. This is because I don't have the discipline to walk it for an hour + every day. It would be grossly unfair to the animal for me to buy or adopt it just so I could . . . what? Say I have a German Shepherd? Pet it at night? Feed my cats to it?

It's like the gym: if I'm not willing to go out walking NOW, why would a gym membership make that any more likely?

3. I'm writing this next thought when my cats aren't looking: dogs are smarter than cats.

Dogs NEED to exercise their brains. One of the most interesting aspects of the show for me is how much Cesar emphasizes a power-walk where the dog actually has to concentrate (rather than just ramble around). I've long suspected that one reason a good owner trains a dog is because it not only makes the dog easier to be around, it gives the dog something to do!

Bad dogs are often bored dogs.

And animals have to have brains in order to get bored. They don't need brains just to be boring. (But, yes, I happen to like boring.)

Thus endeth the lesson.

I highly recommend Dog Whisperer. Even when you take film editing into account, Cesar is gosh darn amazing! And the film editing is actually very amusing.