People ask me why I use animals in my social media posts instead of people, especially when I’m calling attention to the life of a writer, the illusory world, or a dog’s smile being worth more than a Van Meer painting. Naturally, they wonder how my mind works and do I know something they don’t or is it slightly askew from being alone with words all day. It’s an easy answer. I grew up with animals who showed me more compassion than the people calling themselves my parents much like the main character Mavis Amelia in my novel Where Cows Dance.
If I stop and listen, I can hear a chipmunk chattering about how my size frightens him so I send loving thoughts that calm his fears and allows him to return to the business of scouring for food without worrying if he will be someone’s prey.
Now, you are convinced I really am crazy and feel satisfied your original assessment of my shaky faculties might be correct. Except when you meet me, you notice my own animals possess a gentle presence, comfortable in the love that abounds in our tiny household. This requires closer scrutiny of someone you may have prematurely dismissed as an animal loving vegetarian feeling righteous in her convictions animals should have equal rights the same as women. This may be true, but I also understand the heart of an animal beats with love when not in fear they will be hurt by those who consider them inferior.