There is a cat outside my front door, and each day it stops by to say hello. I watch as it looks through the metal screen, pondering at the strange creature inside, cooing and singing, doing everything it can to entice the cat to stay a little longer.
How interesting it is to find the insatiable urge to communicate with animals. To have a conversation, even if it happens to cover arbitrary topics like the warming touch of the sun or the smell wafting from an open window. I find myself pulled to their natures, wanting to climb a shaded branch or clean my wings in a fountain.
In whatever manner that the encounters occur, the influence of animals on our creative process is apparent. I have on multiple occasions been excited in the concept of showing the personification of an animal in my own writing. One of my short stories published, “Falling for Apples, Part one” includes such an animal in the character Barnabas the horse.
Here is another example from an excerpt of a screen play draft that I wrote in college titled, “Silent Night”. Scripted as a holiday film, the plot consisted of the fantasy element of angels living among humans in a normal setting. I have included it to present one of my favorite characters that I have ever written, a crow who loved to play in the snow. Please feel free to comment or share your favorite occurrences of making animals just slightly more human.
EXT. PARK, NIGHT GEORGE is sitting on the same bench as in the morning, all around him is SILENT as fresh snow begins to fall. Suddenly in a flutter of wings, The CROW from before lands next to him. GEORGE (smiling) Hi there. CROW looks curiously at George, before pecking at the string caught on his leg. GEORGE Need help getting that off? Here let me see. GEORGE reaches in and tries to undo the knot. The Crow pecks at his fingers, trying to get him to stop. CROW CAW! GEORGE (irritated) What? You don't want it off? CROW hops down and pecks at George's shoe, specifically the tied laces. GEORGE (laughing) Do you want me to tie it? CROW CAW! CROW hops back up on the bench, holding its leg out. GEORGE carefully reties the string into a nice bow. GEORGE There. Merry Christmas I guess. CROW flies away and GEORGE looks almost disappointed that the bird left.
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