The Big Guy came in the other night, and proposed a theory about why people prefer dogs over cats as pets. Very interesting. He says dogs have round pupils, like humans. Cats have those very cool-looking oval pupils that close horizontally. They do, however, go all round when the kitties are feeling playful. Goats, as he noted, are "sideways". Have you ever looked at the old Stones' album Goatshead Soup? That goat is positively demonic which is consistent with the Stones' raison d'etre of that era. Some religious sects believe the goat is of the devil. Big Guy has always emphatically said, "Please don't tell me you want to keep goats." Now, I never wanted a goat (to raise) in my life. I enjoy barbeque goat once in a while (I have a story to tell about that one day), as long as someone else barbeques the goat that somebody ELSE raised.
I assured BG that I only want horses. Another story, another time.
The reason BG never wanted goats had nothing to do with any religious or vegan beliefs. You see, BG's parents raised goats for awhile when he was just a young'un. Guess who milked the nannies before school and in the evening. Yeah, BG loves every animal (rattlesnakes, much?) on this earth; he just doesn't want to have to milk them morning & evening.
But they do have some wicked-looking eyes. Now look at a dog. Their eyes are kind. I read of an actor, forget who it was; the actor was in his first major show on Broadway. Understandably nervous in his big debut, another more experienced actor told the newbie to focus on a pair of eyes in the audience that (a) he could see despite the stage lights; and (b) looked sympathetic to him. The actor assured the Broadway virgin that he would find a pair of sympathetic eyes in the audience with which he could connect.
Early in the first act, the young actor found just such a pair of eyes. They were focused, seemingly just on him, something any actor craves. They were also suprisingly sympathetic as if the person knew he was a young actor in his first big role. He felt most surely that the person must be a woman, so empathetic and engaged was she. He remembered seeing a young, pretty brunette sitting in the front row while checking out the audience before the lights went down.
Throughout the play, her eyes mesmerized him; and he felt his performance was energized by their glow. He gave even more than he felt was possible as he played to her beautiful eyes.
When the final curtain came down, he was pleased with his performance. He gave his all; for once, he felt he inhabited the role -- he was no longer acting, he was the role. At curtain call, he searched feverishly for the beautiful brunette with the bewitching eyes who could see into his soul. He looked in the front row, spotting a gorgeous brunette, chatting with the male next to her, oblivious to everything but herself. The actor re-focused back to the spot to which he played all night. Disapointedly, he realized there was nothing but an old man there, holding a cane. Next to the man, beside him on the floor was his companion dog. The dog's soft, bright eyes watched everything, filtering those items of interest that might affect his master. For a moment, the dog focused on the actor; her eyes a soft, warm laser beam.
The old man picked up his cane and stood up. Immediately, the dog jumped to attention, looking around while waiting for the man's cue as to where they were going. They proceeded up the aisle, the dog moving purposefully, guiding the old man.