A list of animals who
The recent death of the great Jane Goodall brought me back to an old post about the use of who-pronouns with non-human animals, as in ‘swallows who flew past her window’, as opposed to ‘swallows that/which flew past her window’.
Goodall’s first scientific paper was returned to her with who replaced by which, and he or she replaced by it, in reference to chimpanzees. Goodall promptly reinstated her choice of pronouns, presumably seeing them as markers of the animals’ intrinsic value, and their substitution as an unwarranted moral demotion.1
Since then I’ve made note of other examples of animals who that I’ve read in books.2 This post compiles them in one place, where they form a kind of homemade menagerie of zoolinguistic solidarity. It extends, as we have seen, to swallows:
She watched the sudden, fast shadows of swallows who flew past her window in fleeting pairs, subtracting light from her room, and marvelled how living things could suspend themselves in mid-air. (Claire Keegan, ‘Men and Women’, in Antarctica)
And, from the same writer, sheep:
I sit by the window and keep an eye on the sheep who stare, bewildered, from the car.
Ducks:
‘At the place [. . .] where timid ducks, who must have been through some experiences in the ugly little gravel pool of the never-completed excavation, flew away from me . . . (Werner Herzog, Every Man for Himself and God Against All)
Cows:
I do not care for animals, except for cows, who combine supreme usefulness with a rustic kind of beauty. (Maeve Kelly, ‘The Sentimentalist’, in Orange Horses)
Kingfishers and otters:
In now distant days Iris used to return to Steeple Aston or Hartley Road full of her visit to them, and of what they had told her about their Welsh cottage, a converted schoolhouse. They told her of the pool they had built in the field behind it, the kingfishers and otters who came to visit there. (John Bayley, Iris: A Memoir of Iris Murdoch)
Rabbits:
Who was the more frightened between them? (Nicola Barker, Wide Open, when a woman is startled to meet a rabbit in a kitchen)
Tadpoles (first which, then who):
And we presented her with gallons of frogspawn which duly turned into tadpoles, which ate each other until there were just a few fat cannibal monsters left, all black belly and no sign of legs, who got poured down the sink. (Lorna Sage, Bad Blood)
Bonobos:
The researchers’ most spectacular success has been with Kanzi, a bonobo (a species closely related to chimpanzees) who apparently learned lexigrams spontaneously as an infant while watching his mother being trained. (Abby Kaplan, Women Talk More than Men: …And Other Myths about Language Explained)
Chimpanzees:
In the study by Hirata and Fuwa (2006), for example, chimpanzees who did not solicit other chimpanzees to engage in a group activity quite readily solicited a presumably more helpful human. (Michael Tomasello, Origins of Human Communication)
I make piles, like the chimp who thought he was a human. (Sara Baume, A Line Made by Walking)
Foxes:
And I look out for the fox, the fox who dropped me a rat. (Baume again)
Aardwolves and aasvogels (that’s right, aardwolves and aasvogels):
The aardvark is a peculiar African mammal whose equally peculiar double-A name has earned it its prestigious position as the first animal in the dictionary. Spare a thought, then, for its alphabetical next-door neighbours, the aardwolf and aasvogel, who are pipped into second and third place . . . (Paul Anthony Jones, Word Drops)
Horses:
But still they did not stop the mare, who cantered gaily onward. (Mary Lavin, ‘The Joy-Ride’, in In a Café)
It’s not just stallions who can become aggressive if they’re raised alone. (Temple Grandin and Catherine Johnson, Animals in Translation: Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behaviour)
Pigs:
The sides of the pen are solid, so the other pigs can’t reach their snouts inside and bite the tail or rear end of the pig who’s eating. (Grandin and Johnson again)
Animals generally:
All animals who live in groups – and that is most mammals – form dominance hierarchies. (Grandin and Johnson)
Consider, he [Michael Trestman] says, the category of animals who have complex active bodies. These are animals who can move quickly, and who can seize and manipulate objects. (Peter Godfrey-Smith, Other Minds: The Octopus and the Evolution of Intelligent Life)
If it is a number of animals who are being chased, and if the pack succeeds in surrounding them, then their mass flight turns into a panic, each of the hunted animals will try to escape on its own from the circle of its enemies. (Elias Canetti, Crowds and Power, translated from the German by Carol Stewart)
Wolves:
Wolves vary their hunting techniques, share food with the old who so not hunt, and give gifts to each other. (Barry Lopez, Of Wolves and Men)
A wolf who remains with his or her parents and helps raise their next litter is an alloparent. (Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson and Susan McCarthy’s When Elephants Weep: The Emotional Lives of Animals)
(Many different animals are treated thus in Moussaieff Masson and McCarthy’s book, but I neglected to keep track, aside from the example above.)
Dogs, of course, are often so honoured – the most frequently so of all the animals in Gilquin and Jacobs’s data set (footnote 1):
They could care less that I once had a dog named Woodsprite who was crushed by a backhoe. (George Saunders, ‘The 400-Pound CEO’, in CivilWarLand in Bad Decline)
The same thing applied to the first three time dogs, two of whom had actually been the favourites. (James Kelman, ‘A wide runner’, in Not Not While the Giro)
Most senses require two of things – eyes, ears, hands. But we only have one nose. This is, again, to stop us smelling dogs so much, who stink. (Philomena Cunk, Cunk on Everything: The Encyclopedia Philomena)
Molly Keane explicitly calls dogs people, in both The Rising Tide:
The only people to whom she was a little kind were her dogs and Diana.
and Loving and Giving:
The dogs loved him as he loved them. They flew to his beautiful whistle, even when on the hot line of a rabbit. Nettle, the Killer, a fierce opinionated person who would have been hero of a rat-pit had Silly Willie been sweeping chimneys, was, of the three, his favourite.
Nuala Ní Chonchúir, similarly, uses someone in reference to a dog in You:
Sinbad goes banana-boats when he sees you through the balcony door. [. . .] You kneel down on the rug and let him lick your nose with his smelly tongue. That’s how dogs kiss each other. Then you remember that they also lick each other’s bums, so you don’t let him do it any more. Still, at least someone’s glad to see you.
Even an ant can be ‘someone’:
Last week my little nephew said to his father: “Look, someone is walking under the table.” The father, thinking that his son had had a hallucination, looked under the table and saw – an ant! For the child, an ant was “someone.” I, too, have never doubted that I am one animal among others. (from ‘A Talk with Konrad Lorenz’, in In the Modern Idiom: An Introduction to Literature, ed. Leo Hamalian & Arthur Zeiger)
Rats:
The worst thing about rats, says Steve, ‘is waiting for that big wet slap on your back’. ‘No,’ says Kevin, ‘it’s knowing you’re being watched but not knowing who’s watching and from where.’ London’s sewer rats generally run away from humans. New York’s don’t. (Rose George, The Big Necessity: Adventures in the World of Human Waste)
If you thought rats were unexpected, try trees:
Mycorrhizal fungi have coevolved with trees, with whom they’ve worked out a mutually beneficial relationship in which they trade the products of their very different metabolisms. (Michael Pollan, The Omnivore’s Dilemma)
As soon as the bright sunlight increases the rate of photosynthesis and stimulates growth, the buds of those who have shot up receive more sugar. (The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben, translated from the German by Jane Billinghurst)
And rivers: I’ve yet to read Robert Macfarlane’s book Is a River Alive?, but I saw an excerpt that referred to meeting ‘a living, threatened river who flows from the roadless boreal forest to the sea’. These non-human, non-animal examples align with a movement to grant living systems legal rights – chiefly to protect them from destructive human action.
The menagerie could be greatly enlarged by adding examples from other sources: conversations, letters and emails, social media, the internet generally, language corpora, etc. But this thin slice is based solely on offline reading because that’s how I often pattern my notes.
Using who or personal pronouns is not something I do automatically when referring to animals. Sometimes which, that, or it seems more apt, or I could go either way, depending on context. In footnote 2 I instinctively used which in reference to sharks and decided to leave it be.
I’m sure my usage is inconsistent – it’s one of those grey areas in language that I find interesting. Maybe it’s something you’ve noticed in your own usage. In any case, it’s fun to see new animals join the who club (or the very important person club). All it needs now is some fungi and microbes.
*
1 I learned about this incident from Gaëtanelle Gilquin and George M. Jacobs’s paper ‘Elephants Who Marry Mice are Very Unusual: The Use of the Relative Pronoun Who with Nonhuman Animals’. It has lots of data-informed commentary and is well worth reading if this topic interests you.
2 Examples do occur in films and other media, naturally. There’s a fun one in Batman: The Movie (1966) when Batman, after being attacked by a shark, which then explodes, says at a press conference: ‘That was an unfortunate animal who chanced to swallow a floating mine.’ The DVD subtitles change the line, or I’d have included an image.
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