Oh, these humans...

Bonnie sat down at her computer this morning as we had agreed, while I did my best to inspire her. I can see already that it will take a lot of work on my part to move her to a good place for writing. As it is, she jumps right in to the actual typing, putting words on paper like there's no tomorrow. Now I must teach her to meditate before setting down the words. She needs to think herself into the scene before she tries to write about it. Human are so slow to understand, though she isn't TRYING to be obtuse. Do you want to see what she managed to write? She posted it on my (our?) Lion #30 spot over at Seamus's place, so I can copy-and-paste it here:

How Roary got his name:

I named him Roary because of his deep, magnificent roar. Hey, he's proud of that roar! The name seemed appropriate when I studied the 'screaming' faces below his feet and felt the power of his roar. Take a look at those faces around the lion's feet. They each resemble the person in the famous painting The Scream by Munch. What do you think? Does Roary need to roar for those 21 faces? Do they need his strength?

I looked up Roary's name online and now I'm wondering if I misspelled it. Under a different spelling (RUAIDHRÍ, pronounced ROR-ee), I found it means "red king" from Irish ruadh "red" combined with rí "king." This was the name of the last high king of Ireland, reigning in the 12th century. Roary is a king, so that fits, since lions are known to be kings. Red? Sometimes his fur looks slightly reddish, in the right light, but maybe there's another meaning. Red of tooth and nail, perhaps? Or tooth and claw, killing to survive on the African savannah.

I'll probably let her go on thinking she named me. The other lions and I have all told our human writing partners our names, telepathically, of course. Humans, though, are less developed than most of the animals and don't hear anything, most of the time. Most likely the reason is that they have failed to open the third eye and have thus far been unable to use their inner ears. Bonnie heard my powerful message to her as "ROR-ee," which was enough. I don't care how she spells it and have adopted her spelling for convenience.

I was chatting with Dewey this morning: "Let me think of a word to describe Bonnie ... hmmm ... you humans look so naked to me, not having any fur, you know. When you want a fur coat, you kill an animal and take theirs. Not nice, not nice at all. Or else you drape cloth all over yourselves, making it quite evident to the whole animal kingdom that you want to hide your bodies. Let's see, unlike lions, Bonnie is not elegant. Neither does she walk softly and gracefully, as we lions do. I'll have to give this some thought and get back to you."

Dewey had challenged my idea that Bonnie was pretty good, though I wouldn't call a 67-year-old woman pretty. Now I'm stuck. I have looked through my thesaurus to no avail. I need help, so I'm calling on my lion friends to tell me how they would describe THEIR humans. What words would you use?
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2 comments (from my original blog):

On June 18, 2007, Endelyn said...
Well, one of the first things that my owner did was go away for a week! Now that she's back she seems... well... a little NOISY. I can see that I too will have to teach her that silence can be golden and inspirational.

On June 18, 2007, Roary said...
Well, what can you expect? They got rather uppity when they came down from the trees and started going about on their two hind paws.