I've been thinking about writers and animals lately. Many of us like to be around animals, to sense that connection to the natural world we sometimes seem to have lost in other areas of our lives. We may be drawn to a particular animal, as though a certain one expressed how we see the world. Instead of the world arranging for us to encounter our totem animal, we choose it.
Some of the totems for writers are easy to spot. Clea Simon loves cats and writes movingly about them. The same goes for Susan Conant and Paula Munier with dogs. Sue Star admits to a fascination with moose.
|By Photo Dharma, Sadao, Thailand|
My favorite creature has been the elephant. A Bengali friend named after this creature at first disliked her name until she saw the drawings at Ajanta, the famous Buddhist caves in central India. The elephant figures on the cave walls are graceful and beautiful, and lift the spirit.
My first encounter with an elephant occurred in 1976, in India, when I was walking down a roadway without sidewalks in the early part of the afternoon when the stalls were closed and people were at home. On the opposite side, coming toward me, was a mahout and his elephant, a large one. The animal had no chain on his leg, no rope. As we drew closer, the elephant looked at me, turned and crossed the street, coming straight at me. The mahout gave one command, and the animal turned back. I must have looked interesting.
I got used to seeing elephants on the street and lined up at festivals. They seemed to be everywhere, especially in the countryside. They are less evident in cities today except during festivals, but out in the villages they are still a presence.
In recent years I visited the royal family's elephant, Dakshini, who stayed in a small field near a palace. Her job is to appear in festivals and temple rituals throughout the year. She's relatively small, and now elderly, but sweet and careful around people. The mahout let me and two friends feed her carrots and apples, and get to know her, and we visited regularly, feeding and petting her, and talking as though she might understand us.
We think we know these animals from stories on television and information provided by zoos, but standing close to Dakshini taught me more about her than any scientist could. She gave the sense she was adjusting to us, a demonstration of the elephant's quality of compassion and intuition. I was surprised to learn elephants can purr, just like cats, and they communicate not only by trumpeting and touch but also by subsonic sound that travels faster than sound through air. They can run/walk up to twenty-five miles per hour, but can't jump. All true.
In recent years my attention has turned to sheep, for a specific reason. We had sheep when I was a child and they've reappeared in my newest mystery. In Below the Tree Line: A Pioneer Valley Mystery, Felicity O'Brien has three sheep to tend on her farm, along with a dog and cat. In an ordinary day Felicity has to be mindful of the coyotes and later she discovers a bobcat living in her woods. But these aren't the real threat to her farm.
Animals are only a sideline for Felicity, but in growing fond of the sheep she sets in motion a small incident that will turn out to be life-saving.