I was taking the trash out to the dumpster in the alley. As I reached the back gate, I saw something moving frantically. I couldn’t make it out. It was pink and black and flapping about in a dusty pothole. It was the kind of thing you aren’t sure you should walk toward. Then it stopped suddenly and when the dust settled, I could see two pointy black ears. Black legs splayed wide. I stood still. It was a short-haired cat, but what was that pink? Then the cat started flailing again. Think salmon out of water, she flipped herself in all directions. Did she have a bird? A rat? Rabies? She landed again, this time facing the other direction, legs stretched wide.
Finally, I could make it out. The cat was wearing an old-fashioned doll’s dress. It had a fitted bodice and a full skirt. Buttons in back, that were near to popping, and little short puff sleeves. The kind of dress my mother made me wear when I was a kid, and even the memory made me feel claustrophobic. The cat sprang into the air again, twisting and flipping about, and I knew exactly what she was trying to do.
I guessed the cat had escaped a tea party. She might have run for miles trying to get out of that dress. I took a step closer to see if I might free her, but she bolted into some bushes and was gone. She had clearly reached her limit with humans.
It was decades before social media existed. Now pets have pages dedicated to their exploits. Each adventure has a new wardrobe. We are so used to seeing Wegman’s Weimaraners that a naked Weimaraner is a little embarrassing. Chickens wear sporty knitted hats. A cat in a pink dress wouldn’t stand out at all. I confess, I am as uncomfortable seeing pets in clothes now as I was then. But what was it about that pink dress?
Better to ponder the big questions about animals. Where would civilization be without beasts of burden? Without dogs protecting the herd and camp? Without fiber for clothing. Food to sustain us. These days, we need animals less for survival, and use them for recreational activities and emotional support. For their unique non-judgmental company.
There is no denying the beauty of a cat sleeping in the sun. The daily blessing of being met at the door with the dog’s tail wagging. Or the absolute miracle of a horse of our own. We secretly, or not so secretly, think animals are easier to get along with than our immediate family. We love them, and just being the recipient of our big, assertive emotion is a full-time job for many animals.
I’ve spent decades training horses professionally, living with dogs and goats and llamas, also trained to do various things. (I’ve never trained a cat to do anything.) In my experience of learning animal behaviors and training theories, I’ve been guilty of oversimplifying. I labeled methods as cruel or kind, but the thing that both training practices have in common is that we are molding animals to suit us. The methods vary, but it’s us giving animals a job that serves us. Always about us.
Granted, we are the ones who pay the bills. And that might matter if animals were aware of it. They’re not.
Humans can be needy and if you pay attention to their calming signals, it makes our animal friends uncomfortable. Do we put too much of an emotional burden on our companion animals? We even say the rescue animal saved us in a clever, self-deprecating way, but what if it’s true? I worry we are a damaged species who use other animals as bandaids. I know I have.
I believe the emotional state of an animal during training is more important for success than any specific techniques used. Training is a negotiation between the animal’s instinct and our desire. Do we alter them to fit into our world or change ourselves to fit their reality? Do I value my animal by what I can train them to do for me? Or take pride in prioritizing the mental welfare of my animal above the tasks I am training. I can testify that the second method is slower.
And that brings me back to that silly pink dress. When you think about it, isn’t ignoring or negating another’s feelings when cruelty begins?
Humans want what we want. We grow up believing that we are the dominant species, and we rarely question it. Until we get a reactive rescue dog or a horse who had a rough start. Soon it’s obvious that the same handling that created these problems won’t be what heals them. We have to do better.
Best training practices always say there is no place for emotion in training, but it’s not simple as seeing animals as more than cute. Wanting the animal’s acquiescence can be a sweet energy or a dark fervor. Aspiration can be a positive encouragement or a fear-based attack. But even now, it’s all about us. Our feelings about their behavior rather than their feelings about ours. Do we even consider respecting their emotions, or does our love make us blind?
Some of us are born thinking animals are magic. We begin innocently reaching to hold them. Dreaming of ponies. Trying to carry boneless cats, and chasing after dogs. Playing dress up and serving tea.
There were years I fought my emotions like a lion tamer with a whip and a chair. I could see how overt love intimidated horses. Call it being a horse-crazy girl, but with the best intentions, my love deafened the conversation. It was the last thing I wanted.
Now I am a gray mare. Maybe emotional maturity just takes this long. Maybe understanding their calming signals has changed me beyond recognition. But it’s finally gotten easier to let the animal’s emotions come first. To listen without interruption. To keep my hands in my pockets.
Maybe I have become cold-hearted, but my own emotions have become a distraction, even a liability. They only cloud my perceptions. Horses, or any other animal frankly, have become more interesting than my feelings.
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Anna! This is profound. Almost too cerebral for this cloudy cold midwestern morning. I would like to thank you for putting these thoughts out there and causing me to think about things that have long been pushed to the corners of my brain. I used to think that I had failed when I wasn’t able to reach a certain “goal” during a training session with my horses. I berated myself silently for a “lost day” of training. Now I just smile and sigh when the time I have just spent with my horse goes in another direction. I congratulate myself on letting the horse tell me which way the day needs to go. I remind myself that there are hundreds of new days just waiting to be lived. This attitude has also seeped into my relationships with all of my animal friends. I thank you. My horses thank you. My dogs thank you. My cats sit with their front legs tucked under their chests, eyes narrowed to small slits and say quietly “I told you so”.
Well, you have also worked with horses no one else could have helped… that said… Exactly, and we both know the particular cat. She has told me the same. Thanks, Shauna.
“I congratulate myself on letting the horse tell me which way the day needs to go.”
Wow there are some words to remember. Learning to let those days be a win for us both when I might be disappointed for not doing what I wanted to do with my horse yet knowing that by listening to my horse today, I maybe didn’t disappoint her.
And thank you Anna… “leaving our hands in our pockets!”
Amen!
Poor cat! And yes, that IS cruelty! I hope someone somewhere manages to get hands on & get the freaking clothing off her (I assume its a her) Honestly, anyone that allows their child to do that to an animal really frosts my butt. Putting clothing on animals and the “fur-baby” descriptions are another thing that irritates me – can you tell?
Sorry – good post, Anna – its just set me off.
Another subject, we finally got some snow – about 5-6 inches of WET stuff. Loads of large branches down and others looking really sad (snow laden) So far phone & cable are working, but power has been out – well I realized about 5:30 and didnt hear the generator come on – still going at almost 9:30. (thank heavens). My son took his work-van home last night & his plow truck AND Rav4 are over here – so hes stuck until they can shovel the end of the driveway! Good planning or not?
We sure do need the moisture & we got some. Pulled out my snowboots and gaiters this morning to walk Axel. Looks like its time to start giving the wildlife snacks!
Winter is here, take care. Sounds like your luck is holding for now! Thanks Maggie.
Actually was 12 inches! Cable & phone are back on – power maybe by 8 tomorrow night. Plowed out AND its warming up.
Yikes! Glad it’s warming.
I just want to say thank you for this and all of what you write. This line says everything:
When you think about it, isn’t ignoring or negating another’s feelings when cruelty begins?
Your insight is and always has been, so helpful.
Thank you, Julie. It isn’t always a popular opinion.
“Animals have become more interesting than my feelings”….BINGO! That’s the secret. Didn’t know how to verbalize that revelation but you just did it. When it happened for me, my mind opened and I see with new eyes. Thank you Anna, once again you have taken the words flailing around in my head and organized them into a coherent statement.
I think animals agree. Thanks, Sueann
Love this!
Thanks, Verna
Lol – apparently our (human animal’s) turn is coming.
Just listened to former Google CEO Eric Scmidt talking about the rise of AI on NPR this morning (book entitled Genesis: Artificial Intelligence, Hope, and the Human Spirit):
“Well, we wrote the book because there are questions that we would like to get answered. We have 5 years or 10 years, but not 20 years to answer them… And the reason is that this is the arrival of a new non-human intelligence. And in the book, we spend quite a bit of time saying, Oh, this is very interesting. We have never had a situation, we’ve been around for 100,000 years. We’ve never had a situation where we weren’t the top dog. Literally. Are we going to become the dog to the AI parent, or are we going to be in charge?”
Yikes. And it’s probably time???
Anna, “to keep my hands in my pockets” is a monumental task. In the barn and everywhere, my hands are always busy cleaning, repairing, ordering, assessing wounds….TOO MANY YEARS IN THE NURSING PROFESSION. It wouldn’t be so bad if the horses didn’t find me such an odd curiosity and approach with their big beautiful heads and mesmerizing brown eyes…..I lose control and reach out more than I like to admit. I’m thinking of maybe wearing boxing gloves to the barn to help teach me to think before I reach out to touch. Your thoughts?
Perhaps a twelve-step program?? I’ll come along. Brown eyes…
Yes, perfect, I remain hopeful…..
Quite simply, I love you, and what you are able and willing to do with your skills for animals and humans who are willing to listen
Shucks. Thanks, Monica.
I don’t respond or reply to all of your posts and I couldn’t resist this one! You’re right, my emotions? Excuse me … gag! Listening to a young child (I’ve been hanging out with a child under one year old for the past year) and she has so much to say if only we’d listen. I’ve been listening and she makes me laugh. And I think I understand what she’s saying. So I listen more. We are best friends. We both light up when we see each other. Yay, get out of the way and listen. It feels really great!
Sounds like a wonderful time for both of you. What would the world be like if children believed their voices mattered? Thanks, Carolyn.
I recently read a most interesting book. It’s title is Horse by Geraldine Brooks. It compares treatment of Blacks in mid nineteenth century and today and compares the similarity to treatment of horses—-i.e. they are bought and sold and whipped if they don’t behave to the “masters” liking. I had never thought previously that what is done to many horses is “enslavement”
That was a wonderful, thought provoking book. (And we do it differently here.) Thanks, Sharon