Pets and the Sympathetic Imagination

“The question is not, "Can they reason?" nor, "Can they talk?" but "Can they suffer?” --Jeremy Bentham, The Principles of Morals and Legislation

I'll admit, I had a difficult time with these readings. As I've grown older, I've felt that the more compassionate or empathetic aspects of my personality have faded away due to the cruelty of everyday life. I'm sure this is true for most people: it gets to you after a while. Life in all its facets can be difficult to face, and it simply becomes easier to numb yourself to the suffering we see every day than to acknowledge it.  That's why I think it is so easy for some of us to ignore the mistreatment of animals, specifically the animals that we eat. However, the suffering that people seem to find it the hardest to ignore, is their pets'. Anyone will know what you're referring to when you quote those gut-wrenching commercial. "Hi, I'm Sarah  Mclachlan. Will you be an Angel for an animal in need?" We see one of these, we all scramble for the remote, trying desperately to change the channel before seeing clips of dogs that have been severely injured or maimed. 

All that being said, I found that delving into the mind of an animal, hearing them say to someone "I love you", was equally difficult to stomach. "Alone without you beside me. Come back soon. I still love you." (Anthology, 59) Well, if the purpose here was to fill my eyes with tears, it was effective. Those parts of us that over time we've learned to shove downward, to never let see the light of day because reality is too painful for us to contemplate, resurrect themselves with full force. We may not even realize how deeply we'd buried those most innately compassionate parts of human nature until we're forced to confront them. Ordinarily, empathy is something most people save for a select few. Until this class, I was the same. It's still a gut reaction for me to ignore the suffering I can't alleviate, something I must consciously make myself aware of. Yet when it comes to pets, especially dogs, I'm powerless. "Only a dog, you'd say, missing the mark by a hair-- a dog, yes, indeed, but only? I think not." (Anthology, 70) It struck me next that this is the importance of the sympathetic imagination. It is empathy encapsulated. Seeing through the lens of an animal, one whom is suffering, allows us to connect in a way that might be artificial but feels utterly organic. We are literally suffering with a non-human being. Not only does this experience accomplish the desired goal of mobilizing people to help, it aids in "widening out circle of compassion", as we talk about so often. These poems force you to confront the pain of an innocent being face-to-face. And once you're there with pets, it's one small step to all living beings. I've found myself, over time, unable to ignore things like this any longer. It's difficult and gradual, because removing the veil makes me uncomfortable, and changing my lifestyle accordingly would uproot some of the most basic aspects of my perspective and character. But I've come to the conclusion that experiencing the suffering of a dog is not so different from what it would be like for cattle or chicken, those dietary staples. Anyway, emotional self-exploration aside, when I write the sympathetically imagined portion of P3, there will now be new purpose and fervor behind the words. It's possibly the most important, meaning most affecting, piece of that puzzle. I hope I can do Marney justice.