Nonhuman animals of all varieties must live and thrive in an increasingly human-dominated world. Much of their time is spent trying to tell us what they want and need from us―but how can we listen?
Journalist Amelia Thomas’ new book* What Sheep Think About the Weather: How to Listen to What Animals Are Trying to Say *nicely steers us from our human-centric view of other animals―domestic and wild, big and small―and helps us open our senses to what they are telling us. Here’s what she had to say about her awe-inspiring, important, and timely new book
**Marc Bekoff: Why did you write *****What Sheep Think About t…
Nonhuman animals of all varieties must live and thrive in an increasingly human-dominated world. Much of their time is spent trying to tell us what they want and need from us―but how can we listen?
Journalist Amelia Thomas’ new book* What Sheep Think About the Weather: How to Listen to What Animals Are Trying to Say *nicely steers us from our human-centric view of other animals―domestic and wild, big and small―and helps us open our senses to what they are telling us. Here’s what she had to say about her awe-inspiring, important, and timely new book
**Marc Bekoff: Why did you write **What Sheep Think About the Weather?
Amelia Thomas: As a lifelong animal lover, I’ve always been fascinated by what the creatures with whom we share our lives are constantly trying to tell us humans. But on the day I finally moved to my own, long-wished-for farm (where the animals are all much-loved pets), I realized, to my dismay, how very little I truly knew, and that much of our interaction with animals involves telling (“Sit! Stay!” “Don’t do that!”) rather than listening at all.
To redress this, I resolved to spend a year deep-diving into what animals are trying to say―not to each other, but *to us―*by turning to the world’s top animal-listeners in the realms of science, training and intuition: to ethologists, psychologists, rehabilitators of unadoptable dogs, trackers, trainers and even animal communicators―and, of course, by going straight to the horses’ mouths themselves.
MB: How does your book relate to your background and general areas of interest?
AT: For hundreds of years, my family were British farmers, and I recently learnt that my great-great-grandfather once brought a pony into the farmhouse, much to my straight-laced Victorian ancestors’ horror, because he feared it might be cold―so my abiding love for animals is probably inherited.
As a child I brought home animal waifs and strays constantly, and my first published newspaper article appeared when I was ten years old, recounting how I’d watched toads dying in our local canal due to carelessly dumped refuse, and exhorting readers to value local wildlife. My work as a journalist and travel writer frequently involved animal encounters, and my first non-fiction book recounts the true story of the last Palestinian zoo. It seemed only natural, then, when at last I bought my own farm, to write a book about how best to listen to the wild and domestic animals whom so many of us would love to better understand.
MB: Who do you hope to reach?
AT: This book is for anyone who likes animals. It’s also for those interested in deepening their relationship with their pets or the animals in their backyards, for anyone who has ever had a pet or wants to have one, or is currently experiencing communication challenges with an animal in their life. It’s for anybody who enjoys listening to the birds outside their window or watching squirrels in the local park, or who has the unmistakable feeling that animals have more to say to us than we usually give them credit for.
As our world becomes increasingly clogged with human noise and its attendant polarizing opinions, I believe many of us are keen to listen to all the quieter, nonjudgmental non-human voices―in What Sheep Think About the Weather, I explore how to do just that.
MB: What are some of the topics you consider and what are some of your major messages?
AT: In examining both *why *we should listen and how best to listen to animals, I weave conversations with the world’s top animal-listening experts together with my year-long journey to better understand my own animals, providing readers throughout with many ideas and practical tips for simple ways in which they themselves can listen better.
One of the book’s key messages is that listening to what animals are saying―be they cat or dog, pig or pigeon―is both possible and worthwhile, and that the first step to better listening is simply to notice the many animal voices who are talking to us all the time.
Combine this with getting quiet (we humans are very noisy creatures), slowing down―since non-humans don’t generally communicate at the same dizzy pace as people―and being open-minded to what you might hear, and you have a potent recipe for listening better to animals―in the middle of the city, in a suburban backyard, or out in the middle of nowhere. Because even the smallest creature, you’ll find when you take time to listen, is a somebody with something to say.
MB How does your work differ from others that are concerned with some of the same general topics?
AT: There are many brilliant, fascinating and inspiring books on what animals and birds are saying to each other. But when I searched for a comprehensive book on what animals are saying to us humans, I couldn’t find one―and so I wrote it. My book homes in on this specific question: what are animals saying when they’re talking to us, how much are we missing, and what can we do to be better listeners?
MB: Are you hopeful that as people learn more about the amazing emotional lives of animals they will treat them with more respect, compassion, and dignity?
AT:** **I am―and I think those wheels are already in motion. More and more people these days are visiting animal sanctuaries and refuges, choosing to adopt pets over shopping for them, and trying hard to refrain from practices that cause other species harm.
For instance, Dr. Ahmad Abdella―Instagram’s “Reef Doc” who rescues ailing octopuses―told me that as his social media audience got to know Byrdie, his rescued Bimac octopus, many swore off eating octopus altogether. And recently, on a visit to Britain, I was amazed to see honeybee revival kits for sale at the supermarket check-out, beside the magazines and candy bars. This, to me, was the ultimate indication that our attitudes toward non-humans are shifting: that we consider a single honeybee worth saving, both for its own sake and also for the wider environment to which it―and we―are inextricably connected.