Ode to my feline companion

The summer came and went in the blink of an eye beneath the thick cloud of smoke from the wildfires. I flew home for a brief escape during my two weeks off and only seemed to finally catch my breath the day before I had to return to the coast. It had been a difficult beginning to my return to work after the summer. It now feels like that time was years ago and equally only hours ago at the same time. I blink into the past and reopen my eyes to the current reality I find myself in. Moving forward as best as I can. It is hard to do justice to my longtime companion. I never imagined I would lose him so quickly. It all came as a shock and happened so quickly that I seem to only truly be processing what it feels like with him gone a few weeks later. 

As we entered into autumn the memory of my three bums on the deck attentively watching something that I was blind to me resurfaces without my effort. I often reminisce about simpler times and look to the past for comfort. 

However, when I truly think of the past it was filled with its own obstacles and although difficult in the moment, it now seems like an easier time since I have overcome those past challenges. Seventeen years of a life with a companion who was always by my side. One who was completely attuned to my needs and had a keen sense of when I truly needed that comforting. I think of those "easier" times being under the cottage lying in the dirt with the house less than a foot from my body as I worked on insulating the place for the winter. I look back with a smile as I remember my fear of being crushed by the house held up with rotting posts and the dangling spiders centimetres from my face. And, there he sat, right next to me while I worked so that I would not be alone.

Argus my wanderer often follows me and Mino on walks but I remember the time I broke my foot and this was the only time Pig followed alongside during our walk. It's almost as though he was making sure I was okay, much like his silent presence with me while I insulated our home. I'm comforted in knowing that I was there for him in his final moments. My arms around him, as he took his last breaths and my warm loving gaze, was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes years ago and the last thing he saw as he left his body.

2000-2017

Rhymes with Wombat

Photo by Gnangarra

Loves Wins explores a critter that rhymes with Wombat!

I am impelled, not to squeak like a grateful and apologetic mouse, but to roar like a lion...~Steinbeck

A little bit of a different twist on the theme of Love Wins this March with M is for mouse. While there are several species of mice that are endangered or extinct I wanted to share my own experiences with these tiny critters as my March was filled with the kind that make me scream in terror to the ones that conjure an inspired smile…

She closed her eyes and let images flicker through her mind...

Behaviour is the mirror in which everyone shows their true image...
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Crayola Beach.... Where the colours were in the rocks.

It has been a month that has come and gone in the blink of an eye. However, 2017 is already beginning to redeem 2016... Last week, I was given the gift of hope and encouragement. Each day now drawing closer to an inspired goal reignited by a beautiful soul. Five weeks and counting. I was due for a little good news and true smile. I'll return to Love Wins in March with M. But for now, I think for February, I may just have another story to continue...

No Love Lost

I end the year with the letter L for Lamprey; a being that seems to be a fitting parallel to embody my past year. I was drawn to exploring this creature as a metaphor but the more I read about them I truly became enthralled with this captivatingly disturbing jawless fish. While I did not explore their patterns of mating or courtship, theirs is a story of exploration into overcoming the challenges they create…

The long and winding road of recovery...

I’m still in recovery with my three best buddies and unable to spend long periods of time at the computer. Dictation has been the way that I have managed to keep up with the daily emails and communication. While this feature of dictating to my phone has been helpful in the day to day repartee, it’s not as easy for me to craft a story that way… 

As such, I’m in still in the process of working on the finishing updates to Resonance, our letter K; and now, this month’s Love Wins character. We’ll be ending the year with a being whose existence is antithetical to the traditional species I write about which are vulnerable or on the brink of extinction. Rather, December’s Love Wins being is more like a character from the reels of a creature feature… 

Be sure to check in on winter solstice for the update to Resonance and on New Year's Eve to meet our letter L in No Love Lost… 

Full Circle

I've been recovering from a concussion for over a week now. It’s hard to have one’s routine and process interrupted in such a way that it affects one’s creative method. I’m used to writing through the keyboard. I’ve never been one to dictate, but since looking at a computer screen gives me a headache at this point in time I am required to adapt to a new way to record my ideas and thoughts.

I remember as a child I relied on keystrokes and keyboard shortcuts for my digital work and play. One day my father came home with a mouse. I vowed I’d never use it. Well, I broke that vow and I adapted to the mouse in concert with keystrokes. I am still wary of touch screen laptops though as a result of my digital imaging background. The thought of fingerprints obstructing a clean view of my imagery makes me cringe. Now I am faced with the new adaptation of dictation. It seems that the words have always flowed more effortlessly through my fingers than through my voice. However, I have no choice and will have to practice listening to my stories and thoughts out loud rather than through my inside voice, which leads me to my experiences from yesterday…

On my way back from my doctor's appointment I walked by the lagoon hoping to see the salmon run. Although I'll be out of full force commission for the next two weeks my doctor recommended that I extend my walks and keep to low-key activities. I had heard about the yearly journey of these determined swimmers but had never managed to catch their passage in time. It's fascinating to think about what goes through the minds of the Coho and Chum as they return to spawn. It always looked exciting in pictures and so I thought I'd make the effort and take my walk along the causeway where the upstream expedition begins. I find nature to be a calming force and so this seemed like an ideal low-key activity that included my prescribed walk. 

As I stood on the walkway with the ducks and geese, I watched the gulls along the edges of the bridge. We both seemed to be hoping to see fish fly up from the water on their fatal mission. I saw one giant Chum struggle against the current but no airborne Coho soaring up the fish ladder. But sadly, the reality is also that some take a dead end path and may not even complete their journey. While I initially walked away saddened by that thought, it wasn't long before a couple of heads bobbed up in the distance that made me smile knowing that a different cycle would be completed by those that took "wrong turns"...

And so, although I was equally disheartened by my doctor's revelation in the delay of my full recovery I'll head his prescription and speak my thoughts for now. I’ll look forward to catching up with Love Wins in December. Until then…

Resonance

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection…” Anaïs NIN

K is for...  Resonance at Love Wins for September. 

A prelude... 

Please be sure to come back as I add more over the month of October about my beloved feathered letter K...

Immortal Beloved

This month's Love Wins story is about a specific Jellyfish and the reality of this being's immortality...

Dog Days of Summer

I have not posted in Beautiful Creatures in a little while, having concentrated on my Love Wins series. However, I thought this fitting in that it reveals my own childhood experiences with my brother and family that have shaped who I am and I was inspired by the familiarity of sounds that can trigger such powerful memories. 

In memory of Richard Boissonneault 1945-2016

(July 24th, 2016)

The air resonated with the familiar whirr of static, like the sound of a breath as it escapes the threshold of one’s lips and snakes through a blade of grass held between one’s thumbs. That constant low pierce saturated the summer air but never revealed its source other than in the memorial shell of a previous corporeality. The preserved memory of alien husks are the only signs of these cyclical transient guests that remain bonded to the bark of the maples whose branches swayed in the summer breeze to filter the sunlight where she sat on that park bench watching it dapple through the leaves. 

It’s all about the framing… She lay there listening to the constant drone of the cicadas in the wee morning hours of that still August night. She had always thought of the sound as a source of comfort and a reminder of her childhood until he’d revealed his own loathing of their uninterrupted mating whirr that seemed to have no end. They had sat around that evening talking about different insects; a strange topic but one bug led to another and the conversation continued in ebbs and flows with imitations of the maddening perpetual familiar mating call of this cyclical insect. Now, as she lay there in bed she could hear nothing but that piercing buzz that disturbed the fluidity of her intervallic thoughts of the reminiscences of the weeks gone by that brought her to this point. 

The 17 year awakening of the cicadas seemed a fitting metaphor for the summer’s loss of her uncle that had brought her family together. With the exception of a few of her relatives, it had been about that long since she’d seen the greater part of her family on her father’s side. The family that she’d grown up with as a child, and for whom she’d had fond memories of in those foundational years of her childhood. She closed her eyes thinking back to that day of remembrance that had brought them together, focussing on the small wooden box at the front of the room that was once her uncle and she fell into sugar-coated recollections of moments on the farm with her cousins. She remembered the pig that wowed her in disbelief by her sheer size, for she had only really known the idea of a pig to be like the piglets that were suckling this giant sow. Each time her brother and her were let loose with their cousins it revealed a new curiosity, from feeding the goats, the softness of touching the ethereally downy fur of the angora rabbits she remembered eagerly waiting to brush, to the mischief and contrary nature that simmered beneath her shy and sweet demeanour. 

She smirked as she recalled riding a horse for the first time with her cousin’s at the neighbouring farmstead. As she got on this huge splendid animal she could barely contain the smouldering anticipation behind her soft manner to feel that moment of connection as she and this horse would begin to race through the open field. She was warned not to touch the backside of the horse behind the saddle and that cautionary advice inevitably sparked her contrary nature. As they began to trot her crooked smile revealed her intentions and her hand slowly reach behind the saddle to gently tap the horse on its right haunch sending the animal into a wild gallop as the two shot forward in a breathless moment that she can still feel over thirty years later. It is like those last moments of giggles of freedom before leaving when they’d find themselves up in the rafters of the barn flinging their bodies into the void of that weightless moment before landing in the hay beneath. 

These irregular visits to her uncle’s farm were always filled with moments of wonder, mischief, connection and childhood whimsy. They are moments that will always remain with her, they are memories that she still cherishes all these years later. She can recall the tenor of her uncle's voice and those family gatherings. In loss she has been given those memories once again that were not forgotten but simply squirrelled away for days like these to revisit when she needed a smile.  

The more loving one...

I'm a little late this month in publishing the story for my series exploring courtship, mating and bonding among species. Nonetheless, I made it in time for July with the latest from Love Wins... In June I explored H for Humans. This month my story came to me thanks to someone who recently introduced me to the work of Auden. The More Loving One, a poem by from his book Hommage to Clio (1960) iwas the inspiration for my narrative on the letter I.

H is for Humans

While H was for a brief hiatus Love Wins is back with a mirror for the letter H.

H is for Hiatus...

I’ve taken a little hiatus over April but Love Wins will return in May with the letter H… 

Hopping through Spring and jumping into April with Love Wins this Friday and the letter G...

Will you be my Valentine? Love is in the air once again at Love Wins!

Head over Heels

Starting 2016 with a success story at Love Wins...

Who wants to cuddle with a gender-bending king?

Eight arms, stripes and deception... Who could it be for the letter C at Love Wins this month...

Flight of the Bumblebee...

This month at Love Wins out of limestone caves come two explorers into the forest fires of Thailand.

Love Wins

Welcome August and the first in the love alphabet... Come and meet Mox and Mialy for our journey exploring love across the species...

The Hawthorne Effect

My final summer class was yesterday and the end of the session is always bittersweet. When I refer to the term bittersweet I think of a discussion I had with a confidant a while back who always explains everything so eloquently. In his words, bittersweet is about the full spectrum of life rather than the simultaneous highs and lows of an experience. I always love his stories, letters and the word journeys he takes me on. He has an ability like no other to perfectly string together verses that shape the meanings of my moods or frames of my mind.

In the final discussion of my class, we explored science fiction. The week’s reading by Vint and the references to xenotransplantation had inspired one of my students’ discussions. In her post, she put forth a wonderfully creative exercise for us all to craft a being pieced together from a variety of species that would best represent our true selves.

It was a bit of challenging exercise if you truly delve into the depths of the beings you choose as it takes research, time and honesty to critically assess the best species to use for each of the parts of your mad scientist creation. In today’s fast paced social media driven society, we can float on the surface of the water in our self-awareness and the medium very much distorts the message. It makes me think of a recent article that highlighted the false reflection of our lives through social media. This final exercise was such a fun and thoughtful way to end the term. I have included her description of how to approach the task and shared my own exploration below.

Now is your turn to play a "mad scientist" without actually hurting any animals. Create an alien which contains animal parts to express your personality or style. The parts can be based on actual behavioral/physical traits or popularised ones (like the “heart of a lion” denotes courage). Remember, this type of xenotransplantation is purely fictional, but make sure that the parts you choose relate to your personality and explain why.



I am a collection of beings...


I am an empath, a forgiving person and I will instantly respond to another in need.

• My creature has the heart of a Rat

I am a soft spoken person and patient to a fault. However, when the need arises to defend my wellbeing or survival I am quick to respond and hold my position strong.  

• My creature has the jaws Crocodile

I am quite sensitive. Although I may not reveal it on the surface, my feelings can be deeply hurt quite easily. However, I am able to quickly redevelop from an affront.

• My creature has the skin of a African Spiny Mouse

I am a problem-solver, learn from observation, and I have a mind that is constantly seeking adventure and new experiences.

• My creature has the brain of a Cephalopod

I am hyper aware of my surroundings and I approach situations from new perspectives.

• My creature has the eyes of a Dragonfly

I have an acute intuition and I can quickly see through ambiguity.

• My creature has the stomach of a Bat

I am an explorer, a wanderer and I love to discover the hidden.

• I have the “feet” of an Adelie Penguin

#LastSelfie

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I teach a class called Animals and the Arts through Canisius College's Masters of Anthrozoology program. Every week we discuss new topics and take on some fun and creative assignments over the term. We are now at the midway point of the class and this week we start to delve into advertising. Students in my class each take turns leading discussions and creating thought-provoking questions to get a dialogue going in the group. This week one of the questions put out by our discussion leader was for the rest of the group to find an advertisement that featured other than human animals and talk about the strategies that were used to captivate their audience. It's always fun for me to partake in responding to the questions and I embrace these challenges! I thought it fitting to share my own chosen ad which was the WWF's snapchat conservation campaign.

#LastSelfie

This ad tied in with our week's reading by Jodi Berland Animal and/as Medium: Symbolic Work in Communicative Regimes and it is also a wonderfully evocative example to kick off the new page Love Wins starting at Beautiful Creatures this month that will feature love across species. In the same fashion that Alphabeasts' featured less popular animals in need of a spotlight and conservation aid Love Wins will do the same as we work our way through the alphabet... 

WWF #LastSelfie Campaign

Now this is why I thought it relevant to share my ad choice from my class's discussion. Within the same vein as Berland’s work, the WWF campaign focusses on the way in which we use technology to connect with each other by powerfully emulating the snapchat platform as a metaphor for species extinction. The soft yet hauntingly repetitive background music that plays has an underscoring sense of urgency while they stream their words to bring to light concepts of short-lived moments with which we can identify like our reflection in a mirror. In the brief trailer, the viewer is led through the dance of these metaphors which equally stir the subconscious feeling of our own momentary presence on this planet. It is very subtle and nuanced, but it plants that seed so that the viewer will bond and internalise that message and thus connect on a deeper level with their ensuing appeal. At the midpoint is where they deliver their tagline that will resonate with our contemporary culture “Don’t let this be my #LastSelfie” framing the image of a primate within a cell phone. This is something that a younger population can definitely identify with, and they are the target audience for this campaign. The WWF is reaching out to a new cohort of advocates for their conservation efforts and have done so in a very potent way. The concept of selfies and transience is one that is prevalent in today’s youth culture and this ad connects those ideas in a way that won’t alienate or critique but rather use the idea as a manner of empowering their audience and creating a call to action.

This ad is a reminder to the strength of our love of wild nature. I was not quite ready to feature the first of the Love Wins animals today and I hope to create this same connection to the species that I will feature in my new series. Until then, I hope you look forward to meeting Mox and Mialy, a faithful duo separated by distance...

Happy Canada Day!

Starting this August I will begin to explore the bonds between species on a new page joining Beautiful Creatures. As I work on my writing over the summer, I am looking forward to learning about new species, the bonds they form and understanding the worlds of other than human beings.

A friend recently wrote me with the question of bonds between species and how they differ. He was interested knowing about the difference in the variety of love bonds that other animals express and their experiences of loss and emotional depth. How can we as humans truly have an understanding of another species umwelt and how much projection is there from our own experience upon others?

I have touched on the topic with some of the Alphabeasts narratives and the thread of love has been stitched into a few of the character interactions in Beautiful Creatures. And so, I felt inspired by my friend's questions and thought I would really like to explore this further in my own stories. I look forward to sharing my thoughts, findings and stories with you about love and bonds across species…

So, from the one who never fails to make me smile...

We wish you all a great day!

Release the Kraken!

Today is the 100^th post… And, over the summer my posts won't follow my regular schedule. They will be more spontaneous... So take the time to enjoy some of the previous stories you've missed and I still love to hear from you! 

I am always so excited for the summer months as I have the privilege of teaching one of my favourite classes which is a constant source of inspiration. These first two weeks of being back in the interweb of my class is a reminder of how these interactions are like a muse. It is such a pleasure to be once again immersed in reading through the critical thoughts and being submerged in the depths of understanding of participants within the class. I am always delighted to find that each of the students in the class are as passionate about the research we explore, diligent in their work and avidly engaged in our discussions. The first couple of weeks we hit the ground running before we’ll settle into a steady pace. We began by examining concepts of cognition, the role of fairy tales, fables and folk tales, Disney and social commentary in relation to our connections with other beings.

By Bruce Strickrott
From Expedition to the Deep Slope/NOAA/OER
(NOAA Photo Library) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

All this brings me to a quote from this week’s reading "if animals carried the message—if it were not completely clear where natural history ended and social history began—it might be easier to teach children unpalatable truths about the society they lived in" (Ritvo, 1985, 81). This quote stirs up so many thoughts. It brings to mind the Western idioms that are riddled with the use of other than human animals as adjectives which reflect our values, to films that will, if effectively executed, surreptitiously put forth their core message. It is the cumulative repetition of these concepts that form our beliefs, not a singular exposure to a concept which makes me think of cephalopods. Cephalopods are like mythical beasts from the abyss that capture the depths of my imagination. They are fascinating beings with an ability to create a real sense of wonder. 

When I think of the ideas that we touched on in this first part of my class, I cannot help but think of the illustrative concept of the cephalopod… Each of the animal’s arms is like the individual messages we have explored so far. These individual messages group together and are controlled by the larger being (“society”). They are sustained by the fluid patterned exposure they repetitively circulate across media and become the theoretical framework from which we will draw our knowledge, rules for behaviour, and/or varying beliefs. This is something that Colin Stokes touches on in his TEDtalk about the hidden messages in children’s movies. So, when we think of a concept, a rule or a belief to which we subscribe to, its origins are never quite like a serpent and a linear path, but rather, they are implanted over time from several sources like the arms of the cephalopod and they can be fluid to adapt to our environment like this being's chameleon-like abilities… 

So with that thought in mind… 

Release the Kraken!

Welcome to class!

Every summer I teach a class called Animals and the Arts. I am always so thrilled to get started on the journey. The students are engaged and passionate about the work and each year brings about new inspiration! The class is offered in the Masters of Anthrozoology program at Canisius College. Please browse around the links and get a feel for what they offer. When I think of my own academic studies,  I was blessed with a fabulous mentor and I also had the freedom to create my own path. However, I know I would have also loved to have been a part of a program like the one offered at Canisius College. As for my own class, you can get a feel for what we cover through my syllabus and website, which includes a few examples of the assignments and lectures.

Happy Mother's Day to you from all of us at Beastly Virtues! ❤️

Cause and Effect...

Two rabbits sitting next to the entrance of their burrow while a couple of rabbits are gamboling in the background. Etching by J. Tookeyafter J. C. Ibbetson.

Credit: Wellcome Library, London.

In that moment when Betrüger’s teeth pierced her, the heat of that sharp pain flashed through Flitzen so powerfully that it brought her back to the memory of peace with Schatz. Memories were all that she had and they had begun to feel unreal. The inception of the bond that had been created and the rapport between her and Schatz were fading as she came back to consciousness. Flitzen was tattered and scarred with the trauma from the past few months. But she would awake to a new sorrow. A time of joy but mixed with mourning.

The Linden Tree

Dewdrop Marie-France Boissonneault

I walked into my school library this morning to see Christina Rosetti's Poem Hurt no Living Thing hanging on the wall...  And so, on this Earth Day, I thought I would share Jean Giono’s  L’homme qui plantait des arbres (1953). Giono’ story about Elzéard Bouffier was adapted by Canadian director Frédéric Back and released as The Man who Planted Trees in 1987 going onto win an Academy award for Best Animated Short in 1988. It is a story that is very close to my heart.

In previous posts, I have written about childhood tales that influenced my empathetic path and passion for writing narratives along the humane education stream. The Man who Planted Trees was introduced to me in a brilliant film class I took with my very best friend while in CEGEP. The story is one that speaks to me on several levels; from my ecological interests, respect for the world around me, and equally on a more personal level about the strength of character, dedication, devotion and determination that I see echoed in my family and close friends. In a world that seems more and more transient and less capable of fostering profound relationships, the story of Elzéard Bouffier is one that gives me comfort. Its deeper themes are reflected in the people that I have been blessed to call my family and honoured to call my friends…

Unspoken Truths

By Marie-France Boissonneault (Dallas Road)

In the health class I have taught for the past two years, I incorporated an assignment from one of my previous classes that explores themes of embodiment through our five senses. 

In writing through animal characters, I have found this to be an ideal way to enable a deeper understanding of the world through the experience of another’s whom we cannot truly grasp due to our own limitations. I am always amazed at the imaginative ways that my students describe the experience. It can be a difficult task given the criteria, but some, like the first time I assigned it, really take to the challenge!

This past term, I came across a book in my middle school library that illustrated the exercise beautifully when writing about colour. This book proved to be a great tool to help some of the students that struggled with the assignment. It is hard to conceptualise the world of another, whether it is a being from our own species or a species with which our experience of the world is so far removed from our own.

We all live intricate lives that have a unique unspoken understanding to each that may cross our paths but they are only truly appreciated by ourselves. The reasons we do things, the choices we make, the way we survive, how we keep strong and smile into the next day… We can look upon another and try to assume that we understand their struggles or their pain, their joys or their sorrows, or even the reality that they mirror to the outside world, but no matter who we are there is always a hidden truth.

It is fascinating to travel through the realms of other beings by researching their experiences of the world and describing it to the best of my ability. As well, it is a great writing exercise to challenge oneself to describe an understanding outside the confines of the shared, and to inwardly conceptualise the journey forbidden from using descriptors related to our senses in question…

Stardust

Like flashes of lighting on a stormy night the brief illumination revealed moments past. Memories hidden in time came rushing to the surface. The first moment they had shared a breath, the feeling of calm as they traveled side by side across the dry landscape and the deep blue of the sky in the early morning light. She nickered softly stomping her hoof upon the ground of her stall. Her head nodding in longing as though to affirm the reality of her mind’ eye…

“And the rest is rust and stardust.”
~ Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Echo

Come back to me in dreams, that I may give

Two Rabbits Asleep by Jean-Baptiste Huet, 1784

Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:

Speak low, lean low

As long ago, my love, how long ago. 

Christina Rosetti

They spent many afternoons deep within the cool damp refuge of Schatz’s warren. He had graciously welcomed her and would calm her with his peaceful nature and tenderness. Guiding her through the network of tunnels Flitzen was enchanted with Schatz’s ability to conjure a story from a single prompt. He was a watcher, a listener and had a mild manner like no other. On those sweltering summer days, the dampness of the warren was a welcome refuge. Flitzen could easily lose herself in the environment, absorbing the coolness of the soil that surrounded her, the scent of the underground roots and wetness that hung in the air. Sometimes, she and Schatz would just lie side by side for hours enjoying the stillness and silence while the world above teamed with life under the hot blazing sun. She longed to return to that space. The time in which the world seemed to melt away and there was nothing left but a sense of synchronistic peace. She closed her eyes and travelled back as Betrüger’s claws tore into her side. The searing pain of the attack dulled to a throbbing pulse like the palpitating rhythm of her heart as each beat brought her closer back those moments with Schatz.

Thanatosis

In memory of Gilles Boissonneault 1951-2015
(February 28th, 2015)

The gentle morning breeze caught the gossamer threads casting Grayson and Griffin in flight soaring above Bluegate and beyond…Lila watched the spiderlings drift along the currents of air that had taken them from the cattail by the side of the pond. Grayson and Griffin were together at first, but as they rose into the space above the water Lila saw how the air currents began to draw them apart. A spiderling’s journey was one that may begin in tandem but would very quickly transfer course with the slightest change in the air current. In that moment, Lila shifted her attention, for these times of thanatosis were also when she could retreat into quiet reflection. As an observer of the lives of the beings around the pond she was fascinated by the unknown expeditions that would whisk beings away to unknown destinations and fates… Such was the case with Grayson, as Lila watched him soar higher into the sky, until he had completely disappeared from her view. Griffin had landed close by and was taking calculated steps to discover his new surroundings. But now, Grayson was simply a memory, one that Lila could revisit in her times of reflection about that first moment of Grayson’s maiden flight when his gossamer silk carried him away from Bluegate.

Betrüger

Several months had passed since her first meeting with Schatz, yet they remained closely linked as he was deep within her heart. Their parting was one of sweet sorrow as she watched him slowly disappear in the haze of a warm summer sunset. He hopped along slowly and turned one last time to meet her gaze before he vanished into the thicket. Although they were no longer side by side in body they would remain inner life companions. This bond was one that seemed to traverse distance and was felt deep with Flitzen. 

As time went on, Flitzen paired with another buck when the colder month began to creep in. It had been a chance meeting, but Betrüger had watched her from the distance for a few months. He had seen Flitzen play in the fields nearby but stayed in the background until he found the perfect moment to enter her world. Betrüger was a playful and passionate hare with a flair for the dramatic. But, like a true Belgian Hare, he was highly excitable and had a nervous energy that kept him in constant motion. Much like Schatz, Betrüger had the ability to create a world in which Flitzen could lose herself. She and Betrüger had played for months into the cold nights before the winter crept in. Although Flitzen was initially hoodwinked by Betrüger’s spell, it would eventually dissolve, and the bond they had would scatter like dandelion spores in the breeze. She was weary after spending hours trying to pacify the unrest that had arisen from the impromptu attack of another buck. Her unexpected freedom from Betrüger’s ensnarement came sooner than Flitzen had anticipated and she had been initially caught off guard.  Flitzen’s ear was in ribbons from the encounter with the other buck and as she sat licking her bloodied wounds she felt the sudden intense sting of Betrüger’s teeth as they pierced through her…

Food for thought...

Early in September I wrote a top 5 list sharing a selection of stories published for young readers that nurture an ethic of care for the living world around us. I also shared my fascination about the influences that guide us to developing our ethical beliefs and moral frameworks with regards to nonhuman nature on my own blog. At work I am surrounded by such stories and others that leave me baffled in the illustrations or concepts that they convey to young readers. In my own creative nonfiction writings, I have tried to steer away from the heavy anthropomorphism that is present in many of the narratives for young readers. That said, I do employ some anthropomorphic representations in relation to communication and/or relationships to drive my stories. This is something that I have, like many other children, done from a young age. However, with Alphabeasts and Beautiful Creatures I try my best to keep as close to conveying the experiences of the world of the species I write about as close to their respective realities as I can within my human capacity. 

This week, I was struck by two titles I came across in my library. The concept and the illustration are what surprised me in these two titles, and, as a result, the ideas or concepts that they perpetuate. I teach about the development of our anthrozoological beliefs through media and so I am fascinated to see how some of these ideas are shared through the stories on the shelves of libraries. The first title caught my eye as it advertised itself as “An Alphabeast of a book!” which is the title of my own series. The book written by Michaël Escoffier and illustrated by Kris Di Giacomo is entitle Take away the A. I thought it had a brilliant concept of how it represented the alphabet to a young reader until I got to the letter O. The book is filled with all sorts of anthropomorphised images of various species but for the letter O it describes how “Without the letter O. Four wear Fur” with the accompanied image of four animals in fur lined coats. It is an interesting image and message on several levels. I came across a review of the book while researching it online that was at the opposite spectrum of what I gleaned from the image and message of the letter O myself. The review by Maria Popova  describes the image of the fur-clad duck, zebra, antelope and wolf tea party as a visual commentary of "the cruel price of fur garments." However, in my view, I was initially curious at the selection of beings. Three the four animals are prey animals while there is one lone predator species on the far right. Another aspect that struck me was that I saw this as the tacit or somewhat overt display of fur in fashion and the subtle implications that with the image of other species wearing the pelts of another being this then sends a message that condones this practice for humans. Writing about this today reminded me of the piece that my dear friend, who has been a constant support throughout my writing journey, wrote for my blog last March.

Now the second image I came across this week was similar. Yet I confess, I did not actually read the story as I was only was taken with the image by David Catrow in the book Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road? I am curious about how we develop our nutritional habits and the influences that guide our dietary decisions. This is something that I explore from different angles in my own class when looking at mass media and most overtly on the topic of suicide food. With this image that I came across, a chicken sits at the counter of a local diner and yearningly gazes at the giant burger which is about the same size of the chicken itself. It looks very much like a beef burger and has a little flag in it that reads “well”, perhaps to underline that the chicken ordered the burger to be well done. Now this is a very interesting representation since despite the obvious anthropomorphised scenario, the chicken is depicted as a carnivore. As humans living in cities we are quite detached from the origins of our food and this distancing from the source of our food is even more apparent in such illustrations in that we afford qualities and characteristics of our own species to another whilst completely obliterating the reality of  the other… 

A symphony of trumpets...

It was but a dream, a fleeting twinkle in time. She would revisit that moment of their rupture for years to come. They had come together with such an energy that had overwhelmed them both. With their initial parting, their rupture had been so sudden, painful. She had remained paralysed by sorrow and the uncertainty that she would ever see him again. But unlike Kivuli, Kingsley would return over the years. 

Kingsley was both gentle in his gaze but confident in his manner. His infrasonic chirps would send a wave of peace through Myani. The interchange between them was always fluid and when reunited they would quickly mirror the other in the ease of their connection. 

It was a quiet day when Myani sensed the familiar sub-sonic rumblings in the distance. She knew then that the bliss within her was too much to contain. She flapped her ears and called out in a symphony of trumpets! All the while, certain deep down, that it was him. She quickened her pace toward the diection of the muted roars. As they drew nearer she continued to meet his roars and rumbles with her own. It was around this time that she and Kingsley had first crossed paths. It would not be long before she heard the familiar chirps! She knew the interplay of their emotional contagion would quickly follow suit...

I Believe...

“His name is Zünden” said Miss Mariska.

Zünden was out in the paddock and had only come to the stable in the past few days. As a newcomer he was definitely a curiousity among the other horses.

“A flat racer! I heard he was the chalk before the incident…” Ebony hollered from the stall at the far end.

“He had a stumble and fall. It could have been a blanket finish” said Miss Mariska.

“Yea, but he bolted and blew the turn!” sneered Ebony.

Since that race Zünden had been spooked and the next couple of races he was off the board. His owner had brought him to the stable for help. He’d been on the track since he was a sophomore, a push button. But now, if you could get him to break from the starting gate, he was jumping shadows. He’d turned into a real savage too. Ebony had been in the paddock with him the first few days and was badly bit. But Amore was still intrigued by Zünden.

They seemed to be at opposite ends of the spectrum in their manners but she sensed that there may be more to the story than Ebony knew anything about. She watched Zünden from the opening of the barn. He’d occasional flit by kicking and rearing if there was anyone in his path. They’d left him alone in the paddock since he’d attacked Ebony.

Amore’s interest didn’t wane due to obstacles. She was a watcher, and ever so patient. In fact, she was often drawn to take the path of most resistance. She had an inimitable strength of character. Her quiet resilience is what kept her alive in those most challenging times and she knew that one day she would be with her true Amado. Until then, she continued to remain hopeful and would keep him close in that place where one could linger between wakefulness and slumber. Wait for him where her dreams were vivid and her love real…

Pushbutton: A jockey reference to a horse that runs like a sports car. Off in a flash!  

Jumped a shadow: Horses that jumps imaginary objects on the racetrack.

Blanket Finish: A term to refer to a close finish with a competitor.

Blew the turn: Reference to improperly cornering a turn resulting in a disastrous finish.

Chalk: The betting favorite.

The Hatchery of Ideas

In one of my roles, I work at an elementary school and so my days are filled with questions, laughter and imaginative minds. I have the pleasure of starting my mornings surrounded by kids who adore sharing their ideas, thoughts and explanations for why things occur. I always love when these explanations are in reference to animal behaviour and/or ecological processes. There are two examples that have stayed with me that reveal the loveliness of how children associate their experiences in how they relate them to themselves. The first occurred on a chilly morning a few months back as the sun slowly started to heat the playground creating the dewdrops to evaporate into the air from every surface. I heard a little boy call out “the tree is breathing!” and a group started to circle around the base of the large trunk to watch as the sun warmed its bark turning the morning droplets into little misty clouds similar to when one exhales… In the past weeks, I have had the company of a little girl who tells me about the chickens she has at home. There are over 40, but she has told me that she does know a few of them quite well, one in particular by the name of Henrietta. As it were, Henrietta had fled their place a while back. I listened to her story of how Henrietta had disappeared and return one day with a crowd of little chicks following closely behind her. I loved the explanation that this little girl gave me which was that Henrietta had left because she wanted to have a family. As they collect the eggs Henrietta would not have been able to have her chicks had she stayed. And so, as she stated this was the only way that Henrietta could be the mother she had dreamed of being… I am always fascinated by the logic that kids come up with to explain behaviour, understanding or function. They are often inspired by the understanding they have of themselves but more importantly they express a genuine empathy toward the beings that they encounter.

A well of clarity...

It had been a few months now since Miss Mariska had been moved the stall adjacent to Amore. She was a playful companion that had slowly brought out Amore’s drive for adventure. Together they had been watchful of the routines in the stable and paid close attention to the comings and goings of the humans that moved about the barn. Some would stop to look in on them from time to time and Amore could remember the ones that would take a moment to be gentle with her. A few other horses had come and gone in that time but Amore and Miss Mariska were a constant. 

The two would connect in the paddock since Miss Mariska had been moved to her own stall but their closest interactions were in the stillness of the evenings. The ranch was quiet and the barn closed up for the night. These calm evening tête-à-têtes are what Amore looked forward to during the drudgery of the routines of the day. She loved to listen, and Miss Mariska had such lovely and imaginative thoughts about the world she would construct beyond the barn. Amore had confided in her on several occasions about the lives she lived before the barn, her dreams, and the desires she had to once again run in the freedom of the sunlight accompanied by her Amado. She had such a respect and admiration for Miss Mariska who had a true sense of integrity. Miss Mariska also seemed to have a deep understanding of Amore’s inner self; she was like her well of clarity...

Stay Gold...

He was like a raging fire. She had been warned by her stablemate to keep her distance from the Appaloosa in the stall opposite her but Amore was not one to heed a warning. In fact, her curiousity was something that had led her to adventures beyond her imagination. And so, when Amore was captivated by something or by another she would follow that sense of intrigue in quick pursuit… She had watched the Appaloosa for a few days now. He kicked about in his stall and reared when anyone would approach. His dappled coat, fair golden mane and his gleaming distinctly white sclera were striking in the morning sunlight. She was intrigued by the novelty of this newcomer that stood out from all the rest in the stable, so much so, that she would not be deterred from engaging with the fiery new character!