Violetismycolor commented on my post, Interconnections, parallels, and epiphany, and said:
“I had a horse, growing up . . . well my sisters and I did, anyway. I liked riding well enough, but a couple of my sisters were absolutely horse-crazy. And still are. I think that you are either born a horse-person or you are not. Clearly, you are one of them…the horse people. I always wonder what it is that causes this and have been unable to ascertain what it is. Do you wonder this, too?”
You know, I think if I’d grown up with horses I might very well be as much a horse person as anyone. I confess I’m intimidated by them, unfamiliar as I am, but I’m definitely in awe of their power, beauty, and grace, and I’ll never forget one really sweet horse named Joe, a dappled gray that belonged to a coworker-friend who let me ride him once.
I wonder the same thing though. What causes that attraction for a particular type of animal companion? What makes one person a horse person, the next a dog person, cat person, or bird person?
Although I love all kinds of animals and I’ve been blessed with some special friendships with dogs, cats, and a few parakeets, I have a slightly stronger affinity toward cats, and I don’t know why. Maybe because they’re quieter, more solitary creatures, as I tend to be.
Maybe it has more to do with positive experiences and special individual relationships though. I’ve often thought an unspoken language exists between other creatures and us. (Maybe on the whole I speak cat better than dog?)
The dog I live with now made a silent connection with me the day we met. I didn’t want a puppy, when I stopped with my husband to look at a litter for sale. We’d planned to get a dog again, after we moved into this house, but that day I was about to leave for three weeks out of town on business, starting a new job. I didn’t want the committment of a puppy yet. Still, as soon as this one puppy and I made eye contact, I felt a connection with him. He walked over to me. I picked him up, and then told my husband we were taking him home. I don’t remember our exact words, but Ken said something like, “Oh, you changed your mind. You do think we should get a puppy.” I said something like, “No, but we’re getting this puppy.”
The same thing happened years earlier with a cat, only that time it was both of us who felt the bond take hold immediately. We visited a little mountain town for the day with friends. We split up at some point, and Ken and I wandered into a gem shop. There was this skinny little orange cat that the owner had found starving, abandoned at the town’s dump, and she wanted a home for him. We didn’t think we needed a cat. We petted him anyway. When I picked him up, it was as if someone whispered in my ear, telling me I was going to take this cat home. I just knew, but I didn’t see how I could know, so I didn’t say anything. Ken was the first to say it out loud, and he looked as surprised as I felt. Our friends must’ve thought we were nuts when we left that gem shop with a cat. We named him after the little town, Julian.
Sadly Julian was only with us two years or so before he died of FIP (one reason our cats are now always indoor cats). But both those pets I mention above turned out to be amazing friends and cherished family members.
I suspect the relationship between any two creatures is much the same as that between two people. Maybe human-to-human relationships are bad comparisons, since I think animals are less judgmental and easier to get along with. They know how to love less conditionally than we do. Each creature has a personality, a spirit, and I think friendships between members of different species are just as individual as between people. I speak the same language as most people I know, but I get along with each one a little differently. I try to be adaptable, but sometimes I meet a person that I don’t click with very well. We don’t understand each other. Sometimes I meet someone and we understand each other on a level where words are barely needed. It’s the same with other animals. Although I love cats, there have been a few I’ve met that I didn’t hit it off with.
Maybe someone who becomes a horse person has met a particular horse, or more than one, that they get along with especially well, and are able to communicate with the way they would a best friend or a soul mate. Maybe each, as an individual, has something important to share or teach the other. Maybe if horse and rider are a good match, the horse teaches the rider something about all horses. Perhaps that’s what I’ve picked up on in books and movies about the horse-human relationship. But again I don’t know, and I still wonder.
I’m a bit afraid of horses. They’re just so big. But when I lived in rural upstate New York, my neighbor had one that I was very fond of.
When I met Don, I had a Maine Coon cat, Kelly. He had never had cats and wasn’t particularly enamored of them. But when the two of them met, I was definitely second in my cat’s eyes.
They made a connection - and were best friends ever after. We had Kelly for 14 years.
Now we have another Maine Coon cat, Smokey Joe (rescued cat). And Don still loves cats. This one bonded to me from the very first moment. He was really awful looking. His hair was shaved off, and he weighed 10 pounds, when he should have weighed 18. Now he’s beautiful, and we’re thrilled to have him.
I’m also rather frightened of horses. They are big! I suppose I prefer cats to dogs. Maybe because they are somewhat anti-social, like me. Dogs would slap you on the back if they could. Then too, dogs really need a lot more attention than cats so maybe I’m just lazy. If you were in a foxhole, wouldn’t you rather have a dog with you? Cats, of course, practice mind control to make us think we want to take them in.
Barbara, what you describe is exactly what happened with me and my dog Sam. I wandered into the shelter, not really doing much more than looking. In a cold, wet cage near the back was this half grown shepherd mix and it was love at first sight. I picked him up (heavy, wet, cold) and walked to the front desk and said this is my dog.
They thought I was reclaiming my dog and were going to fuss at me for abuse and neglect. I said, no no you don’t understand. this is *my* dog now.
And he was, for eleven years. I think it’s the bonding. You are his (or her) universe; when you’re not home, his universe is incomplete; when you return, all’s right with the world once again. Always. No exceptions.
Who can explain that special bond? I certainly can’t, though I’ve experienced it many times with Major, Sam, Jasmine, E.G., Butterscotch and others, some dogs, some cats. I don’t know what it is, but I know it when I feel it. Like a work of art, like a wonderful book.
Funny that you should strike up a conversation about the mysterious bond between humans and animals… as I just finished Stephanie S. Tolan’s young adult novel, Listen!
Tolan explores this bond as it evolves between her main character, Charley, a 14 year old girl who is still grieving for the loss of her mother, and Coyote, a wild dog who appears one day…. and there is that immediate connection. Listen! is only one of many books that explore this bond. Kathe Koja’s Straydog is one of my absolute favorites, but there are others equally compelling.
Jeffrey Moussaiieff Masson wrote a fascinating book, Dogs Never Lie About Love: Reflections on the Emotional World of Dogs… and Elizabeth Marshall Thomas has written The Hidden Life of Dogs, as well as The Social Lives of Dogs, two of the best books available on human-dog interaction (in my mind, at least).
For the pure joy of stories… you might take a look at a collection of short stories about humans and dogs assembled by the editors of Bark Magazine (one of my favorite magazines!)… called Dog Is My Co-Pilot.
Horses? I don’t know… they’re mysterious, but their size is intimidating… though I did manage to “bond” with a mule this summer while exploring Bryce Canyon with my family. It was very strange… sitting atop this strange animal, trusting him to take me safely down a trail no wider than an eyebrow, with a drop of hundreds of feet to the canyon floor.
There was a moment, as we sauntered over the lip of the canyon, when I simply had to trust the animal not to trip or fall or stumble down the cliff… in much the same way, leaping into the unknown page each day, I simply have to trust the process to take me where I need to go… and back again.
Happy 2007 to all!
You know, I think you are right about the personal connection thing. I have a cat now that I like well enough, but we aren’t in love with each other, like I was with my cat-when-I-was-in-college, Minet. She was a lovely all-white goddess and we were so enamored of each other. I haven’t really felt that with our other cats. I loved our dog, Barley, that way, too. I am hoping for a new puppy one of these days and I want that special bond. I guess I will have to look for just the right dog.
It appears the consensus here is that horses are large and intimidating. I have a little fear of heights to begin with, which is probably why I haven’t pursued my love of horses in the flesh, only in my mind. I’m content to admire them from afar, so far. But it’s like I always tell my big lug of a dog, who sometimes wishes he was lap size (his head is lap size), “You can’t help the body you’re born with.” He sometimes leans on me, or steps — or sits — on my foot. Those are the times I thank goodness he’s not a horse. But . . . he can’t carry me on his back. There are tradeoffs to everything.
Cassie-b — Main Coon cats are so beautiful. They’re one of my favorite breeds — but shoot, I like them all.
Eric — My cat Emily uses mind control on the dog. He’s a pushover.
Sarah — I don’t know how I would’ve explained it to my husband if it hadn’t happened to both of us before with a cat.
Bruce — Wow, thank you for the book suggestions.
I’ve heard that in the Grand Canyon they put the visitors through a day or two of training before they let them ride the mules down — and some people don’t make the cut. I suppose they must do the same thing at Bryce? I think I’m too much of a fraidy cat. (shiver) No cliffhangers for me, except in fiction. But it is amazing, and you have to wonder how they can be so sure-footed.
Violetismycolor — Yep. There’s something very special there sometimes.
Happy New Year, everyone!
I found this blog because today because I am searching for the answer to a novel question. I am 48 years old, and for the first time in my life, I was confronted with the question of “Why do I love dogs and cats”??? The woman I was speaking with knows - has always known - that she doesn’t like animals. She made that clear to her husband to be that there would be no pets in their lives. She’s a school teacher, with 2 children that she seems to love dearly, so she must be nuturing, yet she is not the least bit compelled to have a pet (despite her children’s requests). So why is it that I and my family and many generations past in my family have always loved dogs and cats ?? I mean, aren’t I continually having to clean up after them, feed them, take them to the Vet, and meet their emotional and physical needs ? I have three human children too. Wouldn’t life be a lot ‘easier’ without having to care for pets on top of everything else? And yet I can’t imagine life without my 3 dogs (Chihuahuas). I think Sarah said it best in her 12/29/06 post: We are the center of their Universe…and to that I would add that our attention is the highlight of their day. They love us, and we can’t help but love them back. They are our babies that never grow up, who are always hungering for our presence and a little attention, always so happy to see us. The emotional connection I have with my dogs is worth every bit of extra vacuuming, lint brushing and pooper scoopering involved. Maybe us animal lovers are just a little more nuturing ? Maybe we love to be needed ? I don’t know, but I do know that I come from a long, long line of animal lovers….and that it sure comes naturally to me.
Would appreciate anyone’s thoughts on this matter…..