For The Love Of Animals

I’ve always loved animals. Not always in the conventional way... When I was younger, I was terrified of dogs. I loved to look at them, I just didn’t want them jumping all over me or trying to lick my face.

I was fascinated by animals. What did they think about? How did they see the world? Did a dog know he was being laughed at when his owner taught him a new trick? Did he feel sad? Did the cat curled up at the foot of the cradle where the newborn baby slept know that she guarding a new life or was she just napping?

Of all animals, I fell in love with monkeys, horses, and dolphins. I’ll start with horses because it’s the easiest to explain. It’s relatively “normal” behavior for a young girl to desire a horse of her own. I was no exception. I wanted a horse. I wanted to ride. I wanted it all... but I had to choose between dance and riding and having danced all my life, riding never stood a chance. Instead I studied horses. I collected books from the local second hand book shop on horse anatomy, how they move, how they live, how to draw horses... I collected fictional books, like The Saddle Club series and of course watched the Canadian television series of the books. I was addicted to the television show Wildfire; even participated in the crazy plans to save the show after it was canceled.

Screen capture from the pilot episode of Wildfire

In school, I did a project on equestrian therapy and decided that someday I would do that. We had to do a financial assignment where we “purchased” real estate and explained how we could justify the expenditures. Mine was simple: I chose a large ranch out in California. It had stables, a guest house; everything I would need to start my own therapy ranch. I got an A on the project, but the comment left was “a great idea but where’s this money coming from?”

I dreamed of riding. In my imaginary world, I rode all the time. It was amazing. That said, my imagination was nowhere near the real thing. I’d done pony rides before. At camp, I was so small that when the rest of my group got too big to ride Midnight (the camp pony), I got to spend all my time with her. I’d also led horse rides before. I worked an apple festival with a friend of mine and we each led horses around a ring as young children rode atop them. I loved interacting with the horses, but I wasn’t riding. Finally my time came.

I’d been begging my dad for years to go, just the two of us, on a father-daughter vacation to the country. We’d go riding, look at the stars, have a picnic... I just knew that if we went, it would be perfect. We finally went in the summer of 2006. I was 15 years old, about to turn 16. Our trip was, in one word, amazing.

In my own words “riding a horse is nature’s Zoloft”. It’s true. It releases serotonin to the brain, allowing even the most depressed person to feel happiness. Sure, my dad and I did other things on the trip. We went to a waterfall and climbed all the way to the top, we drove for two hours without finding a restaurant, we saw Chicago live onstage... but NOTHING beat that trail ride. I got to share one of my favorite firsts with my dad and that is something I’ll treasure forever.

I’ve gone riding since, but every time I go, I think back to that first time. I think back to Aurora, me, dad, and Connecticut. I think back and I smile.

Next we have monkeys. I’ve always felt a special connection to monkeys. My very first trip to the Boston Science Museum cemented that connection. Upon entering the Cotton-Top Tamarin exhibit, I was fascinated and didn’t want to leave. If left to my own devices, I would have spent hours in that room watching the tamarins and learning. My grandmother took us to the science museum a lot growing up. I’d regale her with the story of the tamarins and why one was missing its tail. I’d tell her about their lives in the wild and how their lives had changed and stayed the same since being placed in captivity. I’d sometimes draw a crowd of listeners. It was funny really; fully grown adults hanging on my every word as though I worked there, when in reality I just loved the exhibit.

Any time we went to the zoo, I immediately wanted to go see the monkeys. I loved them all. I studied them. I watched their movements. They were careful. They seemed timid at times, especially the gorillas. If I stayed long enough, they’d start to relax... even let me take pictures. They were like me... uncomfortable when people were staring at them and causing a ruckus but content when left to their own devices. As I explained to my mom: “it’s like they have Aspergers too”.

I stood and watched. I talked in a soothing voice, made soft noises, and waited for them to come to me. Nine times out of ten, they did.

I always wanted a monkey of my own. Monkeys are the only animal in the known universe that can communicate with humans. I sign, monkeys can learn to sign. I was always fascinated by that capability. I wanted to put it to the test myself. See how a monkey acquires language. I know I’ll never be able to do that... but it’s still nice to dream.

Finally there are the dolphins. Dolphins are the most intelligent of creatures. As much as I see myself in a monkey, I also see myself in a dolphin. Dolphins are intelligent but shy. They strive to reach great heights and keep trying no matter what. There’s actually research going on that’s discovering that children with Autism and dolphins communicate in very much the same way.

The research shows that dolphins and high functioning Autistics (read Aspies) possess “intuitive genius”. The (amount of) cycle of brain waves in Aspie children and dolphins is equal; both lie in the “intuitive genius” range. According to the research: “At such a high mental processing level, dolphins and autistic children have the ability to pierce space and time and communicate through what is known as “thought transference”. In a split second, they can feel and read a person’s energy and respond.” (Jean Genet)

So why am I talking about animals? You’ll find out tomorrow.