The following are journal entries from a book I am currently working on, tentatively titled Stories from the Sanctuary.
Our Bears Don’t Like Red Delicious Apples
I mean, our bears really don’t like Red Delicious apples, especially later in the season when they get mealy, though some are fussier than others. Their eating habits vary widely, but none of our five bears will touch them. They prefer moister, crunchier apples.
Bears are not pigs. (I am using that in the general sense of how we use the word, not referring to the actual animal. Pigs are most excellent animals, though their eating habits are, in fact, not those of bears.) Our bears, at least, are very fussy eaters. Gourmets, even. If the peaches aren’t just at the peak of ripeness, they don’t want them. One of the few things they all agree on are watermelon, grapes, blueberries, and pie.
Fruit pie of course. Preferably cherry, although pecan will do. Preferably with genuine whipped cream.
Humble Bumble Bear Wants His Honeycrisps
Humble Bumble is different. It is January, and he still refuses to go to bed no matter what we try. All the other bears behave in a properly bear-like manner, all in their hibernation dens. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of them—not even a black nose peeking out—for more than a month now. But Humble Bumble sits there, pathetically asking for food.
It’s not right… he should go to bed. But what can you do when a bear looks at you that way? We tried not feeding him for a while so he would do what is proper, but he just started to lose weight, and that wouldn’t work. He needs fat to hibernate. And those innocent, pleading eyes…
So to the grocery store I prepare to go, on a dark and frigid January afternoon, to get more apples and other food for him.
I call the grocer, “Do you have a big box of apples?”
“What kind?”
“Well, it’s for a bear who doesn’t want to go to bed, and he doesn’t like Red Delicious or green apples.”
A long silence.
Then: “Would Honeycrisps do?”
“Yes.”
I pick up a couple of gallons of peanut butter, as well. He likes his peanut butter, especially smeared on his apples. Preferably the crunchy kind.
These are cute stories. There are myriad cute stories about animals, and myriad cute pictures. For various reasons, we often don’t pursue it any further than experiencing a momentary blip of pleasure, but they offer a portal into how much we are related. Humans prefer Honeycrisps, too. So much so that we even pay more for them. What does it mean that we both prefer the same thing? That bears have good taste? And why do our bears love their hammocks so—stretching luxuriously, testing out different positions, just as humans do? Why do we find it cute? Why does a light of eagerness come into their eyes when they see and smell something delicious? How do we humans recognize that light? Does something light up in us? Mirror neurons between species? And what is happening physiologically to put the light in their eyes? What does the nervous system recognize and make the animals go for?
Each time we resonate with something “cute”, we have an opportunity to explore our connections. Why do we instinctively and immediately resonate? There is rich information there. This is important to consider.
If we dive deeper into this idea, we inevitably come to the awareness that we are more deeply similar than our culture generally understands—and that is a good thing. An important thing.It is good to question, to further understand how our world works.