Watermark: Cats & Dogs

They are unique, every one. Here, Spike is snuggling; Henry is tolerating. I'm thinking about cats & dogs because of a story last night on ABC News about the Cheetah Conservation Fund:

Dr. Laurie Marker, co-founder and executive director of the Cheetah Conservation Fund, has come up with a novel approach to save them. Her efforts are giving farmers an alternative to killing cheetahs. . . .

She provides them with Anatolian shepherd dogs from Turkey. The dogs grow to an imposing size, become attached to their herds and turn aggressive when cheetahs approach.

"A cheetah does not want to be hurt, so their instinct is to run away," Marker said. Many of the farmers have had success with the dogs and are satisfied with the project.

"We've found that it's reduced the number of cheetahs being killed," Marker said, "and farmers don't lose their livestock."

Amazing what a little creative thinking can accomplish.

Then I started wondering about It's raining cats & dogs. A hurricane site tells us:

. . . It is possible that the word cat is derived from the Greek word 'catadupe' meaning 'waterfall.' Or it could be raining 'cata doxas,' which is Latin for 'contrary to experience,' or an unusual fall of rain.

In Northern mythology the cat is supposed to have great influence on the weather, and English sailors still say the cat has a gale of wind in her tail when she is unusually frisky. Witches that rode upon the storms were said to assume the form of cats; and the stormy northwest wind is called the cat's nose in the Harz mountains even at the present day.

The dog is a signal of wind, like the wolf. Both animals were attendants of Odin, the storm-god. In old German pictures the wind is figured as the "head of a dog or wolf," from which blasts issue.

The cat therefore symbolizes the down-pouring of rain, and the dog the strong gusts of wind that accompany a rainstorm; and a rain of "cats and dogs" is a heavy rain with wind. . .

World Wide Words disagrees:

. . . There are other similes which employ falls of improbable objects as figurative ways of expressing the sensory overload of noise and confusion that can occur during a violent rainstorm; people have said that it’s raining like pitchforks (first recorded in 1815), hammer handles, and even chicken coops. It’s probable that the version with cats and dogs fits into this model, without needing to invoke supernatural beliefs or inadequate drainage.

Anyone who lives with both cats and dogs (especially plurals of both) might find the noise arguement compelling. Anyone who lives with both cats and dogs might -- or might not -- enjoy these Flickr groups:

www.flickr.com