As far as the evolutionary ladder goes, we’re by-and-large a social pet.  Most of us enjoy the company of others, flock together for special occasions, and spend a large part of our lives grooming one another.  Throw a barbeque, or “mates night in”, for example, and the hunter-gatherer takes over, foraging to bring together a selection of tasty treats to be shared among the tribe.

Different people, however, enjoy different things.  I, for one, am not the socialite that my mates are.  I can go long periods without contact and catch up again on weeks, months, or even years at a time within a few sentences, with that familiar feeling that the conversation has simply picked up where it left off.  I don’t dine on the prospect of idle chatter; hugging it closely as if to struggle some nourishing morsel from the practise.

In that sense, after much drunken debate, it was determined that I am the savannah pride lion, or the gorilla.  Living out my days in the urban wilderness, piecemeal with my surroundings as I contemplate matters, being social for the love of my pack and mostly content to survey the borders of my dominion while grasping at the loose straws that bind the nature of the universe.  This much is probably true; and I think I took that in good stead.

So everyone else was, in my opinion, a hyena – bickering over tid-bits and morsels, circling their adversaries with cruel malice, and brandishing their pointy white teeth while baying their woes at the moon.  Sadly, lions and hyenas don’t seem to share the same sense of humour, and the finesse of that observation wasn’t as amusing as I, allegedly, seem to think it was.

Which animal are you?