Читать книгу Animal Kind - Emma Lock - Страница 7

Introduction

I’m fairly confident that most fledgling authors don’t normally type “How to write a book introduction” into their Google search bar. I’m also mostly convinced that other writers’ search histories don’t include terms like “What if my book doesn’t sell?,” “Dealing with imposter syndrome” and “Should I just give up on my life, bury myself in the cold soil, and become a carrot?”

The truth is that as much as I have yearned to write this book and have been utterly and completely obsessed with this project for months, this book almost didn’t happen.

It’s exciting to enter into a project where you know that you will be baring your soul (with all its sparkles and shadows) on paper or in an audiobook for the first time, but there’s also something unexpectedly jarring about it too. It’s a surreal feeling to know that the words you write, the lessons you learn, and the secrets you share may be enjoyed, critiqued, or survive for many decades. That is, unless this book becomes the disgrace of all literature and a secret, elite band of authors issue an order to have all copies of this book burned.

I think I’ve finally made peace with the fact that the circumstances under which I finished writing Animal Kind have been less than ideal. Indeed, my imposter syndrome and self-doubt have paled into insignificance when I think back over the past three months and wonder how on earth I managed to survive what can only be described as an unexpectedly prolonged nightmare.

In my personal story “Bear,” which you will read a little further into the book, you will glimpse a world which I have kept hidden and ferociously protected for several years. There is a part of me, though it is much less dominant now, which didn’t want to share this part of my story, worried that I might be viewed as damaged goods or somehow a failure.

The truth is that everyone has their struggles. Nobody could (or should) journey through life without picking up a few bumps and bruises here and there.

In a way, we’re a bit like bananas. We start off a little green and rather sweet, but rapidly become less firm (well, hello there, thirties!) and we begin to accumulate bruises and blemishes which make us unique. If you take away anything from this book, it’s that we are all bananas.

When I first put pen to paper (or rather fingers to phone) I was cruising at about 33,000 feet on a flight to Omaha, Nebraska, eager to finally collect my long awaited Eurasier puppy, Kiba. If you’re unfamiliar with the Eurasier as a breed, they resemble a colourful Samoyed and can be found in stunning wolf-grey colours, reds, agoutis, and all black. Kiba is almost completely a solid black colour, with a little secret patch of red armpit hair. He might bless you with a glimpse of these magical hairs if you give him a belly rub. They’ve simply been developed as a companion breed, even-tempered and fabulous-looking.

I was inspired to begin writing Animal Kind at this time because a few seats ahead of me on the aircraft was a man and his service dog—a beautiful border collie.

Knowing that I had been given the green light to begin writing my book about the ways in which animals inspire positive change in our lives, and knowing now that Kiba had been selected from his litter to become my ESA, I felt that the timing was right.

If you’re unfamiliar with the term “ESA” it stands for “Emotional Support Animal.” In North America, Emotional Support Animals, Therapy Animals, and Service Animals provide invaluable services.

Therapy Animals have a calm, sweet demeanour and bring joy to many people by visiting them in hospitals, care homes, and special needs schools. They are also sometimes present in police interview rooms to comfort young witnesses and victims of crime.

Service Animals are highly trained and highly skilled animals who perform duties and tasks for their disabled owners. Seeing-eye dogs are probably the most widely recognised Service Animals, but other types of service animal can include “medical alert” dogs trained specially to detect seizures or remind their humans to take their medications. Other Service Animals perform tasks which aid their owners, such as opening and closing doors, learning to dial 911 in an emergency, or grounding their owner during a PTSD attack.

Service Animals are most typically dogs but can be miniature horses as well. It is current US law that Service Animals have public access, meaning that they are generally permitted to accompany their owners anywhere a human is permitted to be, such as on aircrafts, at the movie theatre, in restaurants, and in shopping malls. Yes, this means that, on occasion, miniature horses accompany their owners on flights. It’s the most bizarre, but adorable sight.

Service Animals are not considered “pets.” They are considered to be medical equipment, and therefore necessary to be present with their owners.

Emotional Support Animals are not required to be highly trained or highly skilled animals, and their owners don’t always have a disability. Therefore ESAs are not Service Animals, but they do offer invaluable therapeutic benefit to their owners by offering comfort and companionship. Emotional Support Animals can technically be any pet (yes, even bullfrogs can be ESAs) but only emotional support dogs (and sometimes cats) are permitted to fly in the cabin of an aircraft if they’re well behaved. Emotional Support Animals are not classified as medical equipment and therefore do not automatically have public access rights.

On my flight to collect Kiba, I was so excited that I hadn’t realised that I was practically vibrating. I was shaking my leg, sighing, fidgeting and glancing down at my watch every few minutes. The air hostess who came to offer me a beverage picked up on my body language and asked if I was a nervous flyer. We both laughed when I told her that I was actually just very excited to be meeting my puppy when we landed.

After sipping on some ginger ale (my favourite drink), I put on my huge headphones which are shaped like cat ears and listened to one of my favourite albums, Levity by Dax Johnson.

I began to write down some of my ideas for the book and channelled my restless pre-puppy excitement into a general outline for my personal story, “Bear.”

This book is intended to be a celebration of the meaningful bonds and relationships humans and animals can form and to pay homage to the many varied ways in which animals help us in our daily lives.

As no two people or animals are alike, neither are these chapters. Each short story is its own entity, inspired by the real friendships, discoveries, and undeniable love between the human protagonist and the animals in their lives.

In the case of the short stories “Buddy,” “Zak,” “Magic,” and “Bubbles,” I have written adaptations of these true stories based on my conversations with their generous contributors. However, in the case of “Bear,” I have chosen to write my story factually as I remember it. No detail is altered or embellished. The chapter is written as accurately as I can remember, which makes the story a colossal tidal wave of emotion and distress. My hopes are that the chapters reflect the truth of who I am, affected by such a disorder and experiencing total free-fall. Perhaps some readers will be able to relate. If you can, I see you. I acknowledge your struggle, and you’re doing great.

At the end of each chapter, I’ve compiled a short list of fascinating facts about the species of animal featured in the story, as well as shared pictures of the real animals and humans who inspired that chapter.

My hope is that in sharing these pictures with the reader, we can visually enjoy how such different animals have made monumental and surprising impacts, and that we can, in a small way, immortalize and honour them.

This book has been a true labour of love and a journey which has forced me to rise above the challenges I have faced in my personal life to complete this project. In completing Animal Kind, I have proved to myself that I am not defined by my disorder, and that it does not hold infinite power over me. In this exact moment, at 12:15 p.m. on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday in the middle-of-nowhere New Jersey, I feel quite proud of myself. It’s a feeling I’m trying to feel more often.

In truth, the greatest daily support, motivator, and reason to get out of bed each morning has been Kiba. As I have written Animal Kind, he has transformed from being a football-sized, clumsy ball of fluff under my writing desk to a huge, majestic bear-wolf with eyes that hold more wisdom and love than I can express. He has become my shadow, protector, fluffy shoulders to cry on, and best friend.

When I first set out to write this book, I wanted to open people’s eyes to the magic of human-animal relationships and to share how deeply profound they can be. It is, in a way, poetic, and just right, that the reason this book has finally come to fruition has been because of a new story of friendship which is organically writing itself every day, born of love, trust, cubes of cheese, and belly rubs.