I often think of people I have known and value the things I have learned from them.
I also realize I owe a lot to another group of friends and acquaintances who have punctuated my life – animals and birds. Some of them taught me things, others merely dispelled stereotypes.
Two horses figured in a big way in my life on the farm. Old Dick, an elderly farm horse arrived on loan from a neighbour. Mother needed a dependable horse she could drive that my brother and I, aged about 10 and 12, could harness.
He became more than just a buggy horse. He allowed us to ride him bareback and enjoyed the games of cowboys and Indians the three of us played. At times he would abandon his slow and steady pace and break into a trot or even a gallop. We left the farm and returned Old Dick to his owner to live out his retirement. When we returned three years later, the elderly equine had died. We never forgot his example of patience and dependability.
Mother bought my brother a fine saddle horse named Daisy. She came with an English saddle and the soul of a teacher. During the year we owned her, I learned that she would go, move faster, or stop, depending on how I changed my position in the saddle. She would turn with the slightest touch of a rein on her neck.
Years later I heard a riding instructor explaining these techniques and thought, "I knew that, but I had no instructor." Then I realized that in fact I did. Daisy had taught me.
Most of us have at some time called a dull-witted person a bird brain.
Doing so really puts down birds; they have a high degree of intelligence. I learned that one day as I stood in a friend’s yard that backed onto a wooded area. They had installed an invisible fence to keep the dog in.
As I watched, a pair of birds landed just out of the dog’s reach. He barked and raced around but the birds stayed.
Indeed they fluttered and squawked, teasing the dog, but staying on the safe side of the fence. Who explained to them the operation of an invisible fence?
How often do we hear the expression, “As noisy as an elephant?” On a visit to an elephant farm in northern Thailand, a keeper gave me a few pieces of sugar cane to feed the big creatures. As I handed out the cane, the elephants graciously took it from my hand.
After a few minutes of this activity, I stood to the side to watch the animals. Hoping they would forget the cane, I held the remaining pieces behind my back.
I heard nothing, but suddenly someone yanked a piece of cane from my hands. I spun around to find myself nose-to-trunk with a large elephant eating a piece of cane and looking for more. A mouse could not have moved more quietly.
I don’t have space to tell you about our dog who adopted a kitten and climbed trees with the boys. Neither can I brag about two cats who together learned to open the kitchen door. We don’t have this planet to ourselves; we share it with many living, loving, intelligent creatures.