Did you ever see The Lion King? I did. I wasn’t a fan – in fact, I was the boring guy in the tenth row going, “aw no way! Lions would never be friends with warthogs – they’d eat them!” I know, I know – it’s a charming fable (borrowing heavily from Hamlet) about fathers and sons, friendships despite difference, and overcoming adversity in pursuit of your destiny.

All that is good stuff – it makes up significant chunks of both great literature and popular culture, after all. That’s not what strained my voluntary suspension of disbelief: it was the anthropomorphism of the characters. Yep, let them talk and give them funny or profound lines – that’s OK. But as with so many Disney productions (and similar), it’s taken to a point that we’re not really looking at animals at all. We’re looking at little people in animal suits, with human preoccupations and human emotions.

And dare I say it – these aren’t universal human preoccupations and emotions either: they’re middle-class American human preoccupations – a cosy home, a partner and 2.3 kids, squashing that pesky roadrunner. Again, totally valid for the filmmakers’ enormous domestic market – just not as universal as they could be.

At this point, my nearest and dearest will be telling me to shut up and stop overthinking everything, and I do get it – there’s not much of a market for a heartwarming tale about a young eagle eviscerating its prey or a cute wombat dying under the wheels of a speeding 4×4. That’s what documentaries are for. And given that the theme of every wildlife documentary these days is ‘these creatures are endangered – we’re documenting them before they’re gone,’ it’s clear that something a bit more uplifting is needed. 

So what’s my point? Well, apart from ‘don’t go and see a Disney production with Jeremy’, I guess it’s about remembering sometimes that animals aren’t little people and don’t necessarily spend a lot of time in self-reflection.

Which reminds me of the tale of Morriss, a cat belonging to one of my student housemates in the last century. He was a lovely, fluffy chap with big brassy eyes and an engaging personality (see! Anthropomorphism) – but one day he showed up with a wound on the side of his head and one eye pretty much hanging out.

After an emergency trip to the vet (who must have trousered a handsome fee), Morriss returned a one-eyed cat. The household was traumatised: how would he adapt to being disabled? Would he succumb to depression? Loss of self-esteem? Had he had a glimpse of his own mortality and realised that life is fleeting? Not a bit of it: he was mainly hungry and also keen to get outside and climb trees. He was not traumatised. If the world looked a little less 3-D because of his new cyclops status, he didn’t ruminate for long. He was alive and the world was still very inviting.

I suppose I tell you all this because . . . animals are really interesting, aren’t they?

Working from home, you get to watch the local wildlife during those brief pauses between ferocious concentration and frenzied creative endeavour. I know this because today I have been working on a couple of client pitches, sitting at the kitchen table at my laptop with the occasional break to stare pensively out of the window (and not blankly with my mouth hanging open, thank you). As it happens, this dude (or dudette) came along:

It was fossicking about in the fir-tree hedge out back – clearly finding something nutritious to eat, which is nice given the chilly autumnal weather. I took a few shots – note the red wattles that make it  look like it’s wearing a tiny bow tie (yes, yes, anthropomorphism). Guided by this, I searched on ‘Australian bird red wattles’ and back came the reply: it’s a red wattlebird! Props to the imaginative ornithologist who coined that one.

In Singapore, the palm tree outside my window gave great opportunities for pondering the wonders of local wildlife (and not blankly with my mouth hanging open). Below you can see a little gallery of all the denizens of this single tree. It’s wonderful how a whole ecosystem reveals itself to you if you’re willing watch.

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So that’s it for today – nature is “red in tooth and claw” and all the more interesting for it.

I just hope my prospective clients don’t read this – they’d be asking for a fee cut.