Animal Encounters

In rare and private moments, our lives are graced by encounters with animals. Animals, particularly those that are not domesticated, possess an untainted wildness. They live in the world of nature and survive by their own instinct. Each creature has a unique way of adapting to wilderness — of locomotion, of eating, of communication, and of living — whether it be deer, bear, wolf, whale, loon, or skunk. In fact, there are systems of divination based on the particular habits and qualities of animals. Any time I come into unexpected contact with a large animal in the wilderness, I pay close attention, not only because of the joy of being witness to the presence of a magnificent creature, but because through the process of witnessing, some place of mystery is opened up to me.

This summer, I had the grace of seeing a bobcat and a black bear cub on two different occasions. In the brief spell of being near these mammals, 1 was riveted. It was hard to imagine that such beautiful, graceful, and noble beings still thrived in the wilds on the fringes of human activity, and yet here they were right before my eyes. Coming across both animals brought me immediately into an alert state.

Catching sight of the cub jumping out of an irrigation ditch, I thought that the mother must not be far behind. I had heard enough stories of the dangers of being near a mother bear and her cub. But the mother never did appear. The cub wandered ten feet past me and into the brush of a nearby river.

In the same manner, the bobcat, stocky, three feet long and two feet high (large enough to attack and kill me) appeared and disappeared. He was in clear view, walking across a pińon-covered hillside, and then he was gone.

For minutes after these two sightings, I was stunned and full of the wonder I had just witnessed. The memory of these encounters continues to remain vividly with me months later. I suspect I will frequently revisit and be nourished by these chance occurrences for years to come. Gradually, in the retelling of these events, their import will grow dimmer and dimmer. What was — and is — most real, satisfying, and electrifying was — and is — the actual encounter. The rest is only a shadow of memory.

Coming into contact with a wild animal is like this. It rips us open and brings our world into that of the animals. We feel ourselves looking back at ourselves through those wild eyes. It is as if we are the ones — covered in fur, feathers, and scales — gracefully and quietly moving through wilderness. In the peak of these unusual meetings, we recognize ourselves as kin to the very animal we are beholding. There is no separation between us and them; it is the meeting of two as one that stands out prominently in our mind s eye.

Many encounters are not so dramatic, but each has its own beauty and magic. Most of us know of the precious intimacy that is shared with pets. Tigger, a black miniature schnauzer, is clearly one of the most significant relationships in my life. We play. We go for walks. We sleep together. He is a dear friend and companion. We were both born and we will both die, and yet our lives come from and return to the same source. What is this mystery of life that he and I and all beings share? What is it that does not die? What is it that lives on beyond death?