Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Did you mean that Literally?

Some day, neuroscientists will discover that cultivating affection for animals causes us to speak in euphemisms. As soon as the heart warms, brain function changes somewhere in the speech and communication center. Thereafter, we speak about the object of our affection with adjectives that employ liberties with the truth.

This is similar to when we refer to the behaviors and habits of our human loved ones as "quirky" instead of what they really are, which is annoying or offensive. Or when we call someone who lies compulsively "a great story teller." I believe this comes from wanting to prop up our own egos. You see, imagining that the pain-in-the-butt habits of those we cherish are more unique and special than other people's pain-in-the-butt characteristics allows us to maintain faith in ourselves. Surely, it would not look favorable for us to foster love for ordinary annoyance. No, we prefer to believe that we love exceptional, unparalleled, or even brilliant annoyance.

When you work with animals for a living, as I do, it is necessary to develop competence for reading between these lines. One must become versed in the adaptive qualities of language. Thus, a "very intelligent" horse is translated as one that is clever and quick, overly sensitive and likely to hurt his rider unless she maintains a zen-like mind state combined with the body control of a martial arts master. Whenever a colleague of mine describes a horse by pausing mid-sentence before settling on the word "intelligent," I recognize that he or she is speaking in code. What she actually means is that I should not allow any of my students to purchase the horse because it is volatile and reactive. When one trainer says to another that the horse is "intelligent" it means to be on guard because nothing about this animal is straightforward. Some might be tempted to call it difficult or intractable. But once affection is cultivated, those terms no longer apply. Then, one must use a different language because cultivating love for an animal considered hopelessly not trainable is pretty lame. This is where the flexibility of language helps.

The same goes for saying an animal has "a good work ethic." This generally does not mean what a layperson would expect, which would be that the horse maintains a keen focus on his work without complaint or refusal. Instead, it means that no amount of exercise or rigorous mental/physical activity will tire the beast out. He will zoom around the arena at maximum energy output without any cue from the rider. He will go like this for hours. And, impressively, he becomes more hyper the longer he goes. His system appears immune to fatigue. This kind of horse with "a good work ethic" has a difficult time with anything that requires relaxation or calm focus and prefers raw speed or riding patterns at race tempo.

On the other side of the spectrum are the "very friendly" horses. This is the group disinterested in work. These horses like to lounge around and are so cute doing so that they have become fairly spoiled. A "very friendly" horse crowds your space and bites at your pockets looking for treats. Sometimes, in his pushiness, he will ram you with his head and shove you off balance. Although in the language of euphemisms, this shove would be called a 'nuzzle.' Your bruised sternum is the evidence of how 'friendly' this guy is.

I figure it's just a matter of time before we horse folks write ourselves a new dictionary. It shall be called the Oxford English Pet Ownership Dictionary and will contain no adjectives with deprecating meanings. It will give the owner of any animal possessing ornery and potentially dislikeable traits an array of descriptors to reinvent the pet. Angry and aggressive now becomes rowdy and spunky. Dim-witted becomes sweet or obedient. Disagreeable gets translated to independent, intelligent. And the next time, someone with a lot less affection for your animal expresses annoyance towards him, you can thank goodness for this dictionary. And thank goodness for the English language in general, especially its convenient malleability. It sure makes loving an occasional nuisance a lot easier.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

So true. The 'descriptions' also seem to apply for dogs and cats as well.

On the other hand, it's a universal complaint among pet enthusiasts and so makes for a great conversation starter....=P