“It is a popular belief in the Zimbabwe and Zambian regions of Africa that the meerkat is a ‘sun angel’. It is said that the ‘sun angels’ are sent by the gods to protect villages, straying cattle, and lone tribesmen from the ‘moon devil’ or werewolf. The name ‘sun angel’ was likely applied to the meerkat due to their “glowing” appearance in the morning sunlight during their routinely sun-basks.” *
“The mona monkey (Cercopithecus mona) is an Old World monkey that lives in western Africa between Ghana and Cameroon. The mona monkey can also be found on the island of Grenada as it was transported to the island aboard slave ships headed to the New World during the 18th century. This guenon lives in groups of up to thirty-five in forests. It mainly feeds on fruit, but sometimes eats insects and leaves.”
Monkeys are superior to men in this: when a monkey looks into a mirror, he sees a monkey.
– Malcolm de Chazal
"We’ve got ninety-nine per cent the same genes as any other person. We’ve got ninety per cent the same as a chimpanzee. We’ve got thirty per cent the same as a lettuce. Does that cheer you up at all? I love about the lettuce. It makes me feel I belong." — Caryl Churchill
Eurasian eagle owl (Bubo bubo)
"The Cherokee honor both the owl and the cougar for watching over Earth for seven days during creation; the creatures are often associated even in appearance, as the wide eyes of the owl resemble those of the cat. As a culture that views animals as intelligent beings with spirits, the Cherokee sometimes endow the owl with a personality akin to that of a wise old man."
A lion took a wolf and a fox with him on a hunting excursion, and succeeded in catching a wild ox, an ibex, and a hare. He then directed the wolf to divide the prey. The wolf proposed to award the ox to the lion, the ibex to himself, and the hare to the fox. The lion was enraged with the wolf because he had presumed to talk of “I” and “Thou” and “My share” and “Thy share,” when it all belonged of right to the lion, and he slew the wolf with one blow of his paw. Then, turning to the fox, he ordered him to make the division. The fox, rendered wary by the fate of the wolf, replied that the whole should be the portion of the lion. The lion, pleased with his self-abnegation, gave it all up to him, saying, “Thou art no longer a fox, but myself.” – Jalal al-Din Rumi
The Need
Rod McKuen
It’s nice sometimes
to open up the heart a little
and let some hurt come in.
It proves you’re still alive.
If nothing else 
it says to you–
clear as a high hill air,
uncomfortable
as diving through cold water–
I’m here.
However wretchedly I feel,
I feel.
I’m not sure why we cannot shake
the old loves
from our minds.
It must be that
we build on memory
and make them more
than what they were.
And is the manufacture
just a safe device
for closing up the wall?
I do remember.
the only fuzzy circumstance
is sometimes where and how.
Why, I know.
It happens
just because we need
to want and to be
wanted, too,
when love is here or gone
to lie down in the darkness
and listen to the warm.
Penguins are highly social and communicative creatures. Each penguin has a distinct call that identifies their mate or baby. It's like you or me calling out "Hey Ralph!". In other words, they communicate well within their social structure. They prefer to be in groups. This is partly for social connection, partly for survival, and partly for warmth. They huddle in groups to stay warm. In fact, they rotate their group formation, allowing the outer penguins inside the inner circle. That way, everybody gets a chance to be in the middle of the warm "group hug!". - Avia Humboldt penguin (Spheniscus humboldti)
Tiger
William Blake
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water’d heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
“Geography is the key, the crucial accident of birth. A piece of protein could be a snail, a sea lion, or a systems analyst, but it had to start somewhere. This is not science; it is merely metaphor. And the landscape in which the protein “starts” shapes its end as surely as bowls shape water.”
― Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters
Maverick Mist 