05-23-2016, 10:04 PM
Once again, Mother and Father are touching. They are frequently in close proximity to one another, and when they are there is nearly always physical contact. Muzzles, noses, teeth, shoulders, even full body contact. I have made a thorough exploration of this particular meadow; the violets are still in bloom, though I see them rarely elsewhere now that autumn is drawing to a close, leaves changing color and dropping to the ground, a chill in the air indicative of the impending arrival of colder weather.
Having exhausted other subjects of study for the moment, I have been surreptitiously observing the behavior of my sire and dam, under the guise of investigating the change in flora since our last visit (minimal, as it was recent) and comparing today's insect presence to that observed last time (a slight increase in the bee population, as most other flowers are dying for the season and the violets Father grew for Mother remain in bloom).
They have been excellent subjects for the observation of body language and tone; however, a larger sample set would aid me in determining socially acceptable interaction amongst other groups. Clearly the amount and nature of physical contact between lovers is different than that between parent and child. I have observed as much in their interactions with me. Good thing too. I would not find such a high level of physical interaction to be at all comfortable.
I quite like our current level, with significantly greater distance and space, and occasional touches. In sleep, I do enjoy being close to them. Sometimes even curled up next to one or the other, or even between them now and then. When I was smaller, I especially liked to be curled up on the ground while one of them stood over me. The gentle fussing with my mane, the matter of fact licks and scratches with teeth to groom me, they are all quite nice in small doses. How they stand the constant contact is unfathomable. I suspect different individuals have varying degrees of tolerance or desire for contact, and that mine is comparatively low.
However, ours are the only relationships I have had occasion to study, and of late I have begun to realize this gap in my knowledge is perhaps a significant one. I have an abysmally small sample set to draw on in attempting to reach conclusions such as this most recent one regarding physical contact. So when Mother mentions social drives and interacting with others of my species, I have to force my head not to raise, my ears not to perk up and swivel in their direction, my gaze to remain focused on a shiny blue beetle that looks oddly familiar instead of seeking out my mother's eyes. Interesting. That might work quite nicely, yes.
Having exhausted other subjects of study for the moment, I have been surreptitiously observing the behavior of my sire and dam, under the guise of investigating the change in flora since our last visit (minimal, as it was recent) and comparing today's insect presence to that observed last time (a slight increase in the bee population, as most other flowers are dying for the season and the violets Father grew for Mother remain in bloom).
They have been excellent subjects for the observation of body language and tone; however, a larger sample set would aid me in determining socially acceptable interaction amongst other groups. Clearly the amount and nature of physical contact between lovers is different than that between parent and child. I have observed as much in their interactions with me. Good thing too. I would not find such a high level of physical interaction to be at all comfortable.
I quite like our current level, with significantly greater distance and space, and occasional touches. In sleep, I do enjoy being close to them. Sometimes even curled up next to one or the other, or even between them now and then. When I was smaller, I especially liked to be curled up on the ground while one of them stood over me. The gentle fussing with my mane, the matter of fact licks and scratches with teeth to groom me, they are all quite nice in small doses. How they stand the constant contact is unfathomable. I suspect different individuals have varying degrees of tolerance or desire for contact, and that mine is comparatively low.
However, ours are the only relationships I have had occasion to study, and of late I have begun to realize this gap in my knowledge is perhaps a significant one. I have an abysmally small sample set to draw on in attempting to reach conclusions such as this most recent one regarding physical contact. So when Mother mentions social drives and interacting with others of my species, I have to force my head not to raise, my ears not to perk up and swivel in their direction, my gaze to remain focused on a shiny blue beetle that looks oddly familiar instead of seeking out my mother's eyes. Interesting. That might work quite nicely, yes.