This is Mike Strong, in Hays, for HPPR. The book is “Running With Sherman” by Christopher McDougall.
As much as “Running With Sherman” centers about a donkey who is rescued from near death caused by ignorant care, the author, with family and friends bring out a range of issues and needs vital to the functioning of community, relationships and living with a sense of personal worth.
Along the way are related excursions to his work as a writer, journalist, war, foot races, and caring. MacDougall takes us out of our narrowcasting ideas about humans and animals, bringing us together with interrelationships and actions between species.
Lawrence, a resident billy goat, who usually jumps at new animals in enthusiasm which new animals may see as alarming, treats the very sick donkey Sherman differently. Lawrence takes his time, comes up to Sherman and investigates him, then lays down next to Sherman. Clearly Lawrence, the billy goat, had evaluated Sherman, the donkey, differently than the usual additions to the yard.
Tanya tells MacDougall that Sherman “’s been abused and abandoned, and that can make an animal sick with despair. You need to give this animal a purpose. You need to find him a job.”
And that brings up the way we see the natural world around us, in particular other-than-human animals. Any being capable of despair can only descend into despair if it also has dreams and hopes and some sort of expectation of living a life which means something.
René Descartes’ infamous vivisection of conscious dogs is not repeated today, but there are echoes in our treatment of animals, especially for research. Descartes did not think that animals experienced horror and terror. Clearly, they did. They do. Their cries were, he claimed, just mechanical reactions, to being sliced apart because he couldn’t find a soul. Descartes was looking for the soul, something he said, only humans had.
“Running with Sherman” gives us multiple examples of interspecies caring and collaboration. Goats and donkeys and humans, for starters. Sometimes as support animals. With Sherman, MacDougall’s efforts to heal Sherman give us a glimpse into a world of mutual consideration.
We make a lot of guesses about what animals are thinking. We connect with animals. But we never have actual conversations with our animals, exactly.
Sometimes, animals let us know with their actions. When I was in high school, we boarded our quarter horses at a farm north of Columbus. The Foltz farm was also the site of the Silver Spurs Saddle Club. We were members. Every summer the saddle club held a one-afternoon rodeo. Norbert Foltz had a rodeo arena set up in a section of his land between two rises where people could sit.
One summer it rained the night before and I was on the arena crew. My boots were mud clogged up to the ankle. The saddle club didn’t have a lot of money for rodeo stock, so we got lesser stock.
I don’t remember where in the order this ride was, but when the bell rang for bull and rider to come out of the chute, the chute swung open, and a very healthy Brahma put on a full out, totally professional bull performance, bucking away, rider in peril, on top. Then, the eight-second buzzer rang and that bull just stopped, right there, and lay down in the nice, cool mud. Maybe he had his own rules about mud work. Maybe he was in the UBW (United Bull Workers).
Well, I remember we pulled on his horns telling him to “Git up there, bull.” I don’t remember how long it took but suspect the crowd was placing bets, or I am adding that to my memories. Eventually, he did get up, turned to look at us with evident disdain, snorted, dismissing us, and headed out the arena gate. He had his own ideas of work and dignity.
Must have been a union bull. UBW professional!
This is Mike Strong, in Hays, for HPPR Radio Readers Book Club.
