Why did I choose a dragon as my “special animal”?
I didn’t even think of acquiring such a thing until I was well into my euphemistically-called “golden” years. I appreciated the fact (as I’m sure did most of their friends and relatives) that gift-giving was simpler to those with such a special interest: Josie with her teddy bears, Daria’s pigs, Stan’s elephants, Jon’s zebras. One could give toys to the young, figurines, printed linens, emblazoned T-shirts to their elders, all themed to their animal choices. I wasn’t trying to make life simpler for others when I chose MY beast, but I obviously did, as my house overflowing with gifts of dragon memorabilia attests.
Still, why were dragons my choice? I looked through the archives of my poetry, and this sonnet, one that I wrote a long time ago, caught my eye:
OF MYTHIC BEASTSI’ve never tried to trap a unicorn.
It’s not more graceful, say, than a gazelle,
an earthly beast I’m sure would do as well;
and what’s so great about a single horn?
Nor have I tried to snare a horse with wings.
I’ve flown across the sky, but in a jet.
I see no earthly use for such a pet;
I’ll save my sugar cubes to sweeten things.
But dragons! Ah, now that’s a different story:
great flailing tails that slither, thrash, and crash,
tough armored scales to hide the wicked core,
the iridescent wings a blue-black glory,
the knobbly claws whose talons rake and slash!
My favored mythic beasts breathe fire, and roar!
Could it be that finding a special affinity to DRAGON (generic) might let me borrow its power? Let's see... If I were a dragon I could sail high among clouds or stars, confront villains (especially governmental figures) and intimidate them with my fearsome claws. Since I'm a pacifist, I wouldn't tear them to pieces; but they wouldn't know that, and might change their ways. If I were a dragon I could fly through fire without being scorched. I could rescue anyone trapped in a burning building. Just think what an asset I would be to our local fire department!