August 2004

People are Just Like Animals

Tessa MacKinnon
OP Contributor

 

Features

 

I really believe that certain people
are animals—not in the sense that
they act like animals, but that they
look like animals. Not everyone has
this quality, but every once in a
while, I’ll meet someone and the
first thought that springs to my
mind will be “mouse,” or “dog,” or
“blue jay.” Actually, I don’t think I’ve
ever met a blue jay before, but I have
met a robin, a stork, a rabbit, several
cats, a deer, and a crane. Sometimes
the likeness will be so strong that I
can’t stop myself from articulating
what I perceive to be an uncanny
resemblance, and end up blurting
out, “You’re such a duck!” or what-
ever the animal happens to be.

Inevitably, or perhaps not surpris-
ingly given this approach, the person
will be offended. I still haven’t
learned how to explain it properly. I
am never sure of the right way to
introduce the concept to them, so
saying it point blank is my current
tactic. I then try to explain away
their offense at being called an otter
or a salamander by telling them the
association is purely physical and
never negative—I’m not trying to
insult anyone.

I understand that it can be difficult
to separate an animal’s characteris-
tics from its physical being, which is
why people often have a hard time
grasping the premise of my think-
ing. If I call someone a cat, it does-
n't mean that person is aloof or
proud like cats are accused of being;
it means she is cat-like in some way,
that she moves stealthily and softly
like a cat, or has wise cat-like eyes. If
I call someone a bird of some sort,
it doesn’t mean that person possess-
es a brain the size of a bird; it might
mean he has similar colouring to a
bird, or has long limbs reminiscent

of a particular bird. It usually takes
quite a few examples for people to
grasp this concept, especially if they
are resistant to the animal I have
deemed them to look like, such as a
spider, or a chicken.

On the flip side, if I explain this
compulsion of mine to someone,
the immediate response is inevitably,
“So what animal am I?” People are
rarely satisfied with the answer I give
them—if I have one to give at all. I
often have to explain that not every-
one has an animal. People are some-
times offended by _ this,
Sometimes I wonder why I persist in
talking about this at all.

Most people, even after I’ve
explained my system, try it out with
people they know but often end up
straying back into the animal’s per-
sonality to look for matches. A
friend of mine once said my brother
was a koala, because “he’s so cute
and cuddly.” My brother had a
shaved head and a thick, well-mus-
cled neck at the time. “Nope, he’s
more like a bulldog,” I said. She tried
again with a mutual acquaintance of

too.

ours, saying she was an eel, because
“she’s so slick and slimy and slith-
ery.” Although this was a pretty

 

accurate description, I said she was
actually a deer, because of her large,
soft brown eyes, smooth brown
skin, and long, sleek limbs.

There are, of course, occasions
when an animal does match the per-
sonality of the person. I had a
teacher in high school who was a
goat—and he was definitely as
dumb as one. But this is rare.

Incidentally, people’s animals are
not always permanent. Physical
appearances change and I would no
longer call my brother a bulldog, and
perhaps I would no longer call my
teacher a goat (although I think he
probably still is).

I have never been able to deter-
mine my own animal. I think it’s dif-
ficult to be objective about your own
physical being, so I can understand
peoples’ resistance to my stamping
them with an animal that they may
consider unattractive or unlikable.
It’s likely we all have some animal we
wish we were, such as a tiger, or
maybe a dolphin. For a while, I used
to think of myself as a lion because
I had a thick, heavy mane of hair,
but I cut it all off long ago, so maybe
now I’m just a cat.

Sometimes the

ae

Likeness nill be

so strong that
I cant stop
myself from
artuculating
what I perceive
to be an
uncanny
resemblance,
and end up
blurting out,

“Youve such a

duck!”

 

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