Livin' with the Animals

My first friends were animals. Now in my old age, my remaining friends are animals.

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My first Friends were animals. Now, in my old age, my remaining friends are animals. In between I’ve had many wonderful friends that were human. Some were pals, some were business partners, some were lovers. Some I knew well, some I barely knew, others were very dear to me. They’re mostly gone. Maybe I’ve lived too long.

When I was very young my family moved around a lot, from State to State, from one house to another. Once I counted them. Now I’ve lost track. The result of all the moving was that I never had time as a child to make friends, anywhere.

I did have family, many aunts, uncles and cousins. No matter where we moved my Mother made sure to return to our home base in northern Missouri several times each year.

That was as important to me as it was to my Mother. It gave me stability. I belonged to a larger family. When a teacher introduced me to a new class, I always said I was from Missouri, even if we’d just moved from Wisconsin.

I was born in Missouri. It will always be my real home.

I didn’t have many human childhood friends, but cats and dogs and farmyard animals were often around. I got to know many of them. They were happy to be my friend. I was happy to have them as friends. The kids I met at all the new schools weren’t as friendly. It took effort to be friends with them. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be friends with them. Many of them were mean, and selfish. The animals were open and ready to call friend anyone who did something nice for them. A few pats, a little tasty this-or-that, and you were in.

I thought for a long time that animals were morally superior to humans.

My gentle wife, Joyce, made me rethink that idea.

Joyce said maybe the reason I thought more highly of animals than of people was that I expected too much of people, and too little of animals. Such a clear simple statement, and like so many truths, so obvious once stated.

Joyce noticed what I didn’t.

We excuse bad behavior by animals because, “They’re animals, they don’t know any better”. We blame people because, “They know better than to behave like that”! Where did this assumption come from? Where did we get the impression that mean selfish people were being mean and selfish because they wanted to be mean and selfish?

With some exceptions, most people don’t know when they’re being bad. They convince themselves, “Sure, I did that because . . . “ and, “It’s not wrong when you’re right”. Much despicable behavior is due to a lack of self-awareness. Even unspeakable bastards may be doing the best they can. “They’re just humans”, might not be too different an excuse than, “They’re just animals”.

That was Joyce’ point. Animals and humans are, mostly, only out there doing the best they can. If the dog pees on the couch, he didn’t do it maliciously. If your guest insults your wife, he may not have intended insult. If you don’t pay attention to what you’re doing, or, if you lack the ability to pay attention to what you’re doing - you’ll likely to do bad things.

I accepted this truth and took it to heart. These days I forgive capriciously. Who am I to judge. Nonetheless, I do not seek the company of mad dogs or mean people. I do not blame them. I just avoid them. I know they’re doing the best they can. So am I.

My former “excuse” for animals and “blame” for humans is commonplace. How many of us believe, “My cat loves me unconditionally”, “My friends only love me when they can get something from me”. The truth is, cats respond to food, attention, and affection. So do humans. In the case of humans, “food” is metaphorical, more like food for the soul. “Give me affection, attention, and some other something my interests desire. Then I’ll be your friend”.

Not much different is it?

Every living thing, plants animals and humans, want “food” attention and affection. That’s very conditional. There’s nothing wrong with it. These are the essentials for a contented life. The desire for “unconditional love” is neither realistic nor justified, though I understand the desire.

Most of my friends through the years have been, as myself, animal lovers. Not all though. I have known several good people who are not comfortable with animals. My friend John, my friend Tom, and my wonderful Aunt Maudine are not comfortable with animals. They are all good people. I don’t understand their discomfort with animals. I do understand it has nothing to do with their character. They are each notably self-controlled beings. It may be nothing more than discomfort with beings - notably animals - that are less than self-controlled. I think that might be the explanation. I can understand that.

What then to explain the animal lovers?

I’d like to say animal lovers have a kindlier nature, but that wouldn’t be true. Animal lovers can be as nasty as anyone else, and those who are not animal lovers can be sweeter than those who are. It must be something else.

I think that people who respond to animals more than people have been mistreated by people. It’s not so much unconditional love that attracts them as it is honesty. Animals aren’t entirely incapable of deceit, but they are pretty bad at it. Animals are honest by default.

When humans, are honest they are so by decision - free will. There is great honor in that. I appreciate it whenever I see it. I guess I like the company of animals because they’re mostly free from the unpredictable caprice of free will. I think that probably underpins the feelings of most of us who value our animal friends.

Ironically, we use the word animal to describe the most despicable human impulses, as in this chorus of a song by, R. P. St. John JR. – Living with the Animals, from the album of the same name by Mother Earth, (1967).

“Just the way it is, you understand. It’s hard to be a man, When you’re livin’ with the animals, Down, way on down, down, in Jungle land”.

Maybe a nice cat or dog would be better.

By K. L. Shipley

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