Animal Connection Key to Compatibility


| 6/1/2011 12:05:56 PM


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KC ComptonI’ve just come from visiting friends on Facebook, which always includes plenty of postings of people with dogs, cats, birds or other creatures prominently positioned in their yards, on their laps, draped on their beds or perched on their shoulders. This always makes me happy: I heartily approve of animal lovers who have critters prominently located in their lives.

Not THAT many animals, of course – I don’t admire the hoarders or those whose entire lives become overtaken by the mongrel horde. But a friendly connection with other species seems to me part of what makes domestic life sweet.

KC's current dog-pal CP -- aka Cutie PatootieI know that an intimate, familial relationship with animals isn't everyone's cup of tea. Some people whom I love deeply simply are not animal people. These folks tend to fall into categories. One group is made up of those who didn't grow up with animals and therefore remain strangers, vastly aware of the differences between themselves and animals and barely aware of the connections. I harbor a romantic hope that someday, each of those people, if they only spend some time with an animal, will see that the charms mostly outweigh the minuses. I harbor this hope despite direct and painful evidence to the contrary.

The other group seems to comprise people who have had some traumatic encounter with an animal – through loss or fear – and now keep their distance to protect themselves. I feel sad for these people and hope for them some healing.

A third possibility occurs to me, that there may be people whose brains simply aren't wired to reach out and make contact with other species.



Trying to get inside a mind like this is near impossible for me, though I try to suspend judgment. I have to admit, I can’t imagine having that kind of brain, any more than I can imagine not hearing melodies incessantly, dreaming in black and white, or encountering intense aroma and flavor without an internal swoon.

Mary Carton
8/21/2011 9:56:31 PM

My first animal was an Aussie. Shep was 6 months old & I was 6 months when we got him. He would lay beside me and I'd grab his hair & he would pull me up and that's how I learned to walk.


Paula Ebert
8/13/2011 5:35:17 PM

I knew my man was the man for me, when he said he'd accept my dog in the house, where there'd never been an inside dog before. His mother, God rest her soul, would be shocked; and the family was surprised, but it has worked out just fine.


Muck Boot Diva
8/9/2011 1:35:55 PM

Hee Hee Hee. My MWM loathes cats. I told him when we move to the farm -- THEY WILL COME. Last weekend we have a couple over for dinner (Horse Master Reyna and her Chef husband -- I cooked for him). Well, a young orange striped cat (male) slammed his body up against the front door and meowed. I said , "Oh! A cat! Let's look..." And there he sat. The MWM did not like that. I said he was a perfect gentleman -- he knocked, asked to come in -- why not let him? No go. So, my little friend heard us talking in the bedroom later that evening and "asked" to come in for the rest of the night. I sleep with earplugs, and rested without a twitch --- Hahahahahahahaha! MBD





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