On one occasion, however, the cabinet was unexpectedly locked, and the poor woman in Bertha’s grasp didn’t know what to do. When Bertha let go of her, she made a beeline for the door, trying to get out of there as fast as possible but trying at the same time not to move so quickly as to panic the “dumb beast.” Just before she could reach the door, however, there came a tap on her shoulder. Astonished, she turned around and found herself staring at the great elephant. In her trunk the elephant held the key to the cabinet, which she now dropped carefully into the woman’s hand.48
Almost always, what is taken for rank stupidity on the part of animals turns out to be, instead, a lack of understanding on our human part. Ostriches, for example, are famed for stupidly sticking their heads in the sand when they want not to be seen. The truth of the matter, though, is that ostriches do not put their heads in the sand at all. When they sit on their massive eggs, their long necks and prominent heads make them a conspicuous and vulnerable target, visible to their enemies for miles. And so they have developed an ingenious and effective method of camouflaging themselves when they sense danger but must remain on their eggs. By stretching their necks down and along the sand, they not only become less conspicuous but also, from a distance, look very much like a small hill of sand.
The more I learn about animals, the more they astound me. There are birds who fly halfway around the globe and yet return precisely to the same spot year after year. There are dolphin midwives who usher the newborn dolphins up for their first breath of air while other dolphin midwives stay with the new mother and care for her. There are whales who communicate with one another through sound patterns of such wondrous beauty that some feel they have more intricacy than even a Beethoven symphony. But sometimes it seems as if we humans will recognize their forms of intelligence as worthy of our respect only if they discuss matters with us in English and over tea.
Fresh from the Lap of God
There is always something adorable to me about a newborn fawn or a freshly hatched duckling or a newborn calf or, in fact, a newborn animal of any kind, including human newborns. They shine; there is a luster about them, a shimmering statement of the freshness they bring to life. To me, the fact that newborn human infants and newborn animal babies of all kinds glow with this ineffable sweetness testifies to our common source. They are born as we are—fresh from the lap of God, wanting to express their qualities in the service of the divine spark within them. They are born, as we are, thirsting for life. They are born, as we are, wanting to be all they are and to become all they can become.
They want to play their part in the universe, live the lives they were born to live. In many ways they remain like babies as they age, even if they grow as big as an elephant, for their lives are always intense with immediacy, rich with emotional and sensory experience.
Animals are part of our world, part of our existence. They give us reasons to celebrate life. They are part of us.
Sometimes they bring us challenges, sometimes they bring us the opportunity to help them, sometimes they bring us companionship. Often, they bring us play, beauty, and laughter as they go about their business of being themselves. What we would miss if they were not here!
“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand, how men would believe and adore!”
So said Ralph Waldo Emerson. Can you imagine how we would feel if such were the fate of animals?
What the Children Know
Sometimes children understand these things better than adults do. A young Girl Scout named Karyl Carter wrote a simple report that says it all so well.
A beaver who swam, dove and somersaulted among canoeing Girl Scouts—that’s what you would have seen at Camp Sacajawea Girl Scout Camp in Newfield, New Jersey, this summer.
It was a late morning discovery. Girls from Holly Shores Girl Scout Council were taking canoeing lessons in Sacy’s Lake when a large stump started to move and perform numerous swimming feats. Hearing laughter, squeals and screams, the waterfront director canoed out to the girls, identified the stump as a real beaver, and yelled to those on the beach, “Go get the rest of the camp…they’ve never seen anything like this before.” In no time flat, the entire camp lined the lakefront, playing audience to a most talented but different kind of swimmer.
The waterfront director, who was wary but excited, told the canoers, “Just keep canoeing, don’t pet the beaver, but enjoy the experience.” Meanwhile, a beach bystander ran to the camp office and called Hope Buyukmihci, naturalist and author, at Unexpected Wildlife Refuge, three miles away. “Are you missing a beaver…a very friendly one?” The answer was yes. The beaver was Chopper, an orphan Ms. Buyukmihci had raised from infancy, and he was now over a year old and beginning to make it on his own in the wild.
Minutes later, Hope drove in to Camp Sacy to con Chopper back home. But the next day Chopper was back in Sacy’s lake, entertaining campers with his swimabatics. “Maybe he’s building a dam. Maybe he’s going to raise a family,” said some of his young admirers.
All of us were excited over these prospects. We told Hope about Chopper’s whereabouts. She said he could stay and was happy that Chopper was on his own.
Every day the staff members kept Hope informed of Chopper’s activities. “He may try to climb into your boats,” she said, “but he’s just playing. He’ll dive off immediately. And he might just swim along or wrestle with you if you’re in the water!”
For the next three days, campers, leaders and staff members observed, petted, fed and just plain enjoyed Chopper. The Girl Scouts also learned about the looks, diet, habits and temperament of a beaver who is accustomed to the world of people.
During these beaver days, the atmosphere in the camp drastically changed. There was a profound awareness that there really was something alive and friendly out there in the woods and waters.
One afternoon the camp director decided to take some pictures of Chopper. He found him swimming in a swampy area near the Comanche campsite. An animal enthusiast, the director walked right into the swamp, click-clicked the camera, and was then promptly but playfully grabbed around the leg by Chopper. The following day was hectic, with camp closing and campers leaving. It wasn’t until late Saturday afternoon that a few remaining staff members decided to walk down to the lake to say goodbye to Chopper.
As we approached the lakefront, there were other last-minute beaver admirers standing on the dock. They screamed—“Come quickly!!!” We ran, only to find Chopper lying on the edge of the dock, dead.
These people, many of whom were young campers, had just witnessed an unidentified fisherman maliciously beat Chopper to death.
It seemed Chopper was disturbing this trespassing man’s sport. The fisherman, who was rowing away, shouted to us, “That thing tried to climb into my boat, so I hit it with my fishing pole. Then it started to hiss at me. I had to hit it with my oar.”
We wrapped Chopper up in a beach towel.
We cried…49
My Dream
I have a dream. I see humankind understanding that the spirit that sings in our hearts sings as well in the hearts of the other animals. I see us realizing that there are many kinds of intelligence, many kinds of souls, many kinds of suffering and striving. I see us knowing that all creatures are endowed with the same will to live that we possess. I see us respecting theirs, as we would like our own to be respected