A few people that I know of have mentioned the relationship between the words anima (soul), animal, and animation. I probably first ran across it in something by James Hillman, with his emphasis on deliteralizing and thus ensouling, “animating.” I do think that the introduction of an animal into a poem, if it is done fully imaginatively (not just thought up, because it’s a good thing to do), increases the presence and power of Psyche in the poem, and thus the energies of Eros (in Hillman’s sense of these gods, as “deep” image complexes, in tandom—where one is present, both are present; that bicycle, parked out front, should have been a clue). Thus Stevens’s lion, Dickinson’s robin. Obviously we share animal-type consciousness with animals, in a way that makes them and us very much alike while remaining very different—non-verbal communication, fear (though so much less of the latter barrier on the Gallapagos, so that the barrier to physical interaction must be imposed on us, for the good of them, we being dangerous). I think that this becomes clear when animals are totemic for us. In my own experience, the totemic animal is the dog, which I eventually noticed makes energetic, affecting appearances in my life, dreams, and poems.
Tom Koontz, Editor
Barnwood magazine
Barnwood Press