LET’S PROTECT OUR OWN PHILIPPINE FOREST DOG BREED

LET’S PROTECT OUR OWN PHILIPPINE FOREST DOG BREED

Who cares about protecting our very own Philippine Forest Dog breed? I do. And here’s why it matters.

I care because this dog — the Philippine Forest Dog (commonly called asong gubat) — is part of our heritage. I care because it is part of our national identity.

There is enough evidence to suggest that the asong gubat is linked to the ancient Austronesian expansion: our earliest ancestors arriving on these islands from Taiwan brought along dogs, and this land-race of canine may be one of those companions. It’s a living link to pre-colonial biodiversity and indigenous lifeways. 

What the asong gubat is
Yes — it is distinct from the more familiar street dog known as the Askal or “asong kalye”.

• The asong gubat is a primitive, indigenous land-race: evolved naturally within forest ecosystems in the Philippines, not imported from abroad.
  
  

• The askal is a mixed-breed, mongrel form — flexible, resilient in its own way, but not a pure heritage breed.
  
  

Because the asong gubat is endemic to the Philippines — that means it is found nowhere else in the world — its conservation matters deeply.

What makes the asong gubat special?

• Its origin is native: it has lived for centuries across forested zones in Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao, adapting to terrain, climate and human-community interactions.
  
  

• Unique traits: among the tales and reports: climbing ability, incredible agility, even reports of shedding of claws (yes, the claim is “claws-shedding”). 

• Cultural integration: indigenous communities have for generations valued this dog for hunting, guarding and spiritual roles.
  
  

• Reproductive and genetic isolation: some researchers claim these dogs reproduce primarily among their own kind, helping retain a distinct identity.
  
  

So what is the status of recognition and conservation?
The breed is being documented by the Philippine Canine Club, Inc. (PCCI) in collaboration with the Philippine Forest Dog Legacy Club, Inc. (PFDLC).
There are efforts to have it recognized internationally by the Fédération Cynologique Internationale (FCI).

So here are some questions and suggestions I pose:

• Why not put their images on our postage stamps? Imagine a special stamp featuring the asong gubat — symbol of Philippine biodiversity.
  
  

• Why not include them on coins or bank notes? Wouldn’t that elevate their status in the national consciousness?
  
  

• Why not teach about them in our schools — as part of biology, heritage, culture lessons?
  
  

• Why not protect them in the wild by empowering our indigenous tribes, mapping ancestral domains, designating these dogs’ forest habitat as sanctuaries?
  
  

• Why not build a community-led conservation programme that integrates ecology, culture and indigenous stewardship?
  
  

Because this is not just about a dog — it is about our identity, our environment, and our heritage. The asong gubat can become a flagship species for land-race preservation in the Philippines.

When we speak of “landraces”, we often think of plants. But animals too — when they evolve naturally in local environments, adapt to local conditions, and maintain genetic distinctiveness, they matter in the same way. The asong gubat is exactly that kind of landrace: locally adapted, genetically diverse (relative to modern highly-bred dogs), not the product of intensive human breeding but rather of informal, natural selection in forest ecosystems.

From a broader systems perspective:

• This dog is a bridging point between ecology, culture, indigenous knowledge and national identity.
  
  

• Protecting it means protecting habitat, protecting indigenous livelihoods, and protecting biodiversity.
  
  

• It offers regenerative potential — for communities, for eco-tourism, for place-based identity, for educational outreach.
  
  

Of course, some caveats:

• Some of the “unique traits” (claw-shedding, refusal to breed with other dogs, etc) are still not universally accepted by mainstream science — these claims exist in journalistic or folklore sources.
  
  

• Recognition by a major international body (FCI) takes time and rigorous documentation.
  
  

• Conservation in the wild means protecting forest habitat, preventing hybridization with mixed dogs, and securing indigenous community buy-in.
  
  

My suggestion for a roadmap:

1. Formalise the breed standard: through PCCI + PFDLC, define what makes the asong gubat distinct — appearance, behaviour, genetics.
   
   

2. Create a biodiversity registry: map where populations still exist (forest barangays, indigenous ancestral domains), engage local communities in documentation.
   
   

3. Legal/Policy overlay: seek recognition of the asong gubat as national breed, embed protection in legislation (perhaps via existing indigenous rights laws or wildlife legislation).
   
   

4. Community-led conservation: support indigenous stewards, provide training, integrate asong gubat in cultural programmes and forest-based eco-projects.
   
   

5. Education/Advocacy: include in school curriculum, campaigns, stamps/coins, national heritage branding.
   
   

6. Research/Genetics: partner with universities, perform DNA studies to confirm distinctness, publish findings.
   
   

7. Link to habitat conservation: protecting asong gubat means protecting forest zones, ancestral lands, ecological corridors.
   
   

In short: Our asong gubat is far more than a dog — it is a symbol of the Philippines, of our forests, of indigenous lifeways, of biodiversity and resilient heritage. Protecting it is a statement: we protect our own, we honour our roots, we invest in our future.

So let me ask you, reader: Are we ready to rise to the occasion? To look beyond the cute puppies of imported breeds, and value our own wild-heritage dog? To see it not as mere novelty, but as a national treasure? Because I believe we must. We owe it to our forests, to our communities, and to ourselves.

Let’s kick the ball rolling — put it in a postage stamp, show it, teach it, protect it. Because if we don’t, who will?

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com

senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/05-09-2026

ROBOTIC FISH CAPTURES MICROPLASTICS IN THE SEA

 ROBOTIC FISH CAPTURES MICROPLASTICS IN THE SEA

When I first heard about a robotic fish designed to capture microplastics in the ocean, I thought it was one of those high-tech science fiction ideas that cost billions and require rocket scientists to build. But as it turns out, the idea is remarkably simple—and refreshingly doable.

Meet “Gillbert,” a small 3D-printed robotic fish created by Eleanor Mackintosh, a student at the University of Surrey in the UK. Gillbert swims through the water like a real fish, filtering out microplastics—those tiny plastic fragments less than five millimeters in size that have now invaded almost every corner of our planet, from Arctic snow to human bloodstreams.

Unlike large, complex cleanup machines designed for floating bottles and bags, Gillbert focuses on the invisible enemy. It uses a gill-like filtration system that “inhales” water, traps microplastic particles, and releases the cleaned water as it swims. Think of it as a gentle underwater vacuum cleaner that never complains and never pollutes.

Now here’s what fascinates me most: this breakthrough didn’t come from a billion-dollar research lab, but from a university student with a 3D printer, curiosity, and purpose. I once interviewed a local drone designer who sheepishly admitted that his invention was built using nothing more than Arduino and Raspberry Pi components—tools so simple that even grade-school students now use them. This shows that true innovation doesn’t always need massive funding. It just needs imagination—and a bit of initiative.

So here’s a thought: if one student can build a robotic fish in her garage, why can’t our own universities do the same? Why not fund Technology Business Incubators (TBIs) in both public and private universities to develop Filipino versions of Gillbert? After all, the Philippines is an archipelagic nation—we have more coastlines than most countries on earth, and sadly, we’re also one of the biggest contributors to ocean plastic pollution.

If we are morally responsible for polluting our seas, shouldn’t we also take moral responsibility for cleaning them up?

Imagine building thousands of these robotic fish and releasing them into our coastal waters like schools of small, tireless janitors. Each one could patrol our rivers, estuaries, and bays—silently collecting plastic particles that harm marine life. We could even give them local names—Isdang Bayani, perhaps?

Of course, this raises practical questions: Which agency should take the lead? The DOST could spearhead the research and development. The DENR could integrate it into marine cleanup programs. The Philippine Coast Guard could deploy them, and the Philippine Navy could manage offshore operations. We could even link this effort with barangay-level environmental patrols and youth STEM programs to get students involved in designing, maintaining, and deploying the bots.

This idea fits perfectly into what I call “circular design”—where technology, community participation, and sustainability all loop together. Instead of treating waste as waste, we turn it into opportunity. Collected microplastics could be processed into eco-bricks, recycled tiles, or even artisan products.

Interestingly, China has also developed its own version of a robotic fish—just 13 millimeters long—made from a flexible, pearl-like material that’s powered by light, not batteries. It swims autonomously, collects microplastics magnetically, and could one day work in swarms to clean deeper waters. Between the British and Chinese prototypes, the world now has at least two working models proving that this concept is viable.

But I’m not suggesting we just copy these designs. Filipinos are natural tinkerers—we can improve them, tropicalize them, and make them cheaper. With our pool of local engineers, robotics students, and makerspaces, we could even integrate sensors that track pollution data in real time. Imagine a national “Digital Ocean Map” showing which areas have the highest concentrations of microplastics, updated live by fleets of robotic fish built by our own people.

Microplastics are now in our fish, salt, and drinking water. According to the World Health Organization, the long-term health effects are still unknown, but studies already link them to inflammation, hormonal disruption, and potential carcinogens. In short, they’re not just an environmental issue—they’re a public health issue.

That’s why this invention is so important: it’s not just a machine—it’s a symbol of accountability. It reminds us that small, simple innovations can tackle massive, complex problems.

So here’s my challenge to our policymakers and universities: instead of spending millions on imported solutions, let’s build our own robotic fish. Fund local inventors, engage students, and deploy technology that makes both scientific and moral sense.

We often talk about cleaning our beaches. Maybe it’s time we start cleaning our waters—from the inside out. And maybe, just maybe, it will be robotic fish—not politicians—that save our seas.

Isang Bayan, Isang Kabuhayan. Isang Dagat, Isang Kinabukasan.

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com

senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/05-08-2026

RARE EARTH DEPOSITS FOUND IN MINDANAO?

 RARE EARTH DEPOSITS FOUND IN MINDANAO?

If the recent reports about rare earth deposits in Mindanao turn out to be true, the Philippines could be sitting on a game-changing discovery—one that could transform our country from a resource-dependent economy into a global technology and energy powerhouse. But as I often say, when a story sounds too good to be true, it deserves to be checked twice, maybe even thrice.

A geologist friend of mine was cautious enough not to call the circulating news “fake,” but he did say it came from an unverified source. That alone should make us pause. And yet, as someone from Mindanao myself, I can’t help but feel a spark of excitement. Could this be the beginning of a new chapter in our nation’s development—or just another overhyped rumor?

What puzzles me most is the silence of the major media outlets. If the discovery is legitimate, why aren’t they reporting it? If it’s false, why hasn’t anyone officially debunked it? In either case, this matter deserves official attention. The DENR, along with the Mines and Geosciences Bureau (MGB) and DOST, should immediately conduct verification studies. Let’s literally “get to the bottom” of this—both scientifically and geographically.

What Are Rare Earth Elements Anyway?

Rare earth elements, or REEs, are the unsung heroes of modern technology. They make our smartphones smarter, our electric vehicles faster, and our wind turbines stronger. They’re also essential in satellites, laser systems, and fighter jets. In short, rare earths are the building blocks of the 21st-century economy.

Currently, China controls more than 80% of the world’s rare earth supply and nearly 90% of the processing. This near-monopoly gives Beijing immense leverage over global industries. If Mindanao truly holds one of the largest and most accessible rare earth deposits in the world, as some reports claim, it could disrupt that monopoly and put the Philippines in the middle of a new geopolitical race.

The Opportunity and the Risk

There’s no denying the potential. Properly managed, this discovery could generate billions in export revenue, create jobs, and fund infrastructure. It could also give the Philippines strategic leverage in international relations—imagine the world’s tech powers courting our cooperation.

But there’s also a darker side—the so-called resource curse. Countries rich in natural resources often end up poorer, not richer, due to corruption, environmental destruction, and conflict. We’ve seen this story unfold in places like the Congo, Venezuela, and even our own history with mining in Surigao and Palawan.

Mindanao, in particular, has had its share of insurgency and land disputes. Without strong governance, the rush for rare earths could reignite tensions, displace indigenous communities, and damage fragile ecosystems. Let’s not forget—rare earth mining is notoriously toxic. It produces radioactive waste, contaminates water, and destroys forests if not strictly controlled.

What Should Be Done Now?

First, verify. The government must immediately confirm whether these deposits truly exist and how large they are. This means mobilizing the MGB and DOST, with transparency and public reporting at every step.

Second, prepare a governance framework before any mining starts. This should include:

• Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) for indigenous peoples;
  
  

• Benefit-sharing mechanisms so local communities directly receive royalties and social development funds;
  
  

• Green extraction technologies, minimizing toxic runoff and allowing waste recovery;
  
  

• And a National Rare Earth Strategy aligning DENR, DOE, DTI, and LGUs toward sustainable and transparent management.
  
  

Third, we must choose our partners carefully. If we’re to collaborate with foreign firms, let’s work with those that respect our sovereignty and environmental standards—not those that see us as another resource colony.

Lessons from Other Countries

Japan, the U.S., and the European Union are all looking for alternative rare earth sources to reduce dependence on China. Vietnam, for instance, recently discovered vast REE deposits and is now setting up sustainable extraction programs with Western partners. The Philippines could do the same—but only if we put governance first.

According to the Fraser Institute’s Mining Investment Index, the Philippines jumped from 72nd to 16th in global investment attractiveness this year. That’s good news—but it also means more eyes are on us. With the new Mining Fiscal Regime (RA 12253) designed to increase mining’s contribution to GDP from 0.5% to 2%, the timing couldn’t be more critical. We must ensure that new investments translate into national benefit, not just corporate profit.

A Final Word

If Mindanao truly holds vast deposits of rare earths, this could be our equivalent of a “Middle Eastern oil moment.” But unlike oil, this resource powers the clean technologies of the future—electric cars, wind turbines, and semiconductors. In other words, this is not just a mining issue; it’s a national development strategy waiting to be written.

But let’s not rush. Let’s be scientific, strategic, and sovereign in our approach. The greatest tragedy would be to discover something so valuable, only to lose control of it to corruption or foreign exploitation.

If the news turns out to be true, let it be the start not just of a new mining era—but of a new governance era.

As I like to say, Isang Bayan, Isang Kabuhayan—but this time, maybe it’s also Isang Minahan, Isang Kinabukasan.

www.facebook.com/ike.seneres iseneres@yahoo.com

senseneres.blogspot.com 09088877282/05-07-2026