With The Jungle Book roaring up the box office, we thought we’d take the opportunity to print a load of cute animal pictures in the guise of asking our writers what beast they’d be.
I’d be a puffling: small, grey balls of downy cuteness with teeny tiny wings (baby puffins), because they stay safe and warm snuggling in their burrow with the possibility of flying to freedom one day across to new horizons.
I’d be a koala as it has three vaginas which means thrush, periods, etc, would be much less impactful on the old sex life. Also, they sleep a lot.
I’d be a ferret: they’re cute, but you don’t want to mess with them. They drink beer from a pint glass and they mesmerise their prey by DANCING them into submission. They also stink of piss, but let’s not dwell on that…
I like to think of myself as a Royal Bengal Tiger. Feline but strong, majestic but elegant. In reality, I am more like a Maine Coon kitten. I fall asleep in sunny patches on the floor, I love a tummy tickle, and when my boyfriend Karl ruffles the back of my neck, my autonomous sensory meridian response is one of such contentment that I practically purr, head-bopping him and pawing him gently if he stops. It’s why I called it the ‘Kitten Purr Feeling’ for so long. Such grand and lofty ambitions, reduced to such domestic snuggliness.
I’d be an otter or a weasel, or stoat or ferret. Basically, I like long-form mammals. But if I had to choose, an otter, as they are so sleek.
I’d be a spring lamb – giddily jumping on the grown-ups in the meadow, utterly oblivious about my own impending murder.
Lili la Scala
I’d be a black panther. Solitary with great coats. Also, indelibly inscribed into the skin of tattoo fans the world over.
I’d be a raccoon, adorable while stealing stuff from bins; cute yet prone to be accidentally annoying. Basically, I’d be lovely in principle but a pest if you actually have to deal with me in your garage.
I’d be a hedgehog I think, because if anything was going to kill me it’ll be something as stupid as getting my head stuck in a yogurt pot.
I’d be a sloth, because they’re adorable, get to sleep a lot, and I could force my still-human husband to carry me around like a shoulder bag.
I’d be a llama. They’re hilarious.
Kangaroos are amazing creatures. Their bodies can hold off on gestating a fertilised egg if it proves a bad time to be having a baby and they can also select the sex of their child. All of which seems proper useful, if you want that sort of thing. I don’t, so I’m going to say otter because they use their tummies as dining tables, so it’s a lot more socially acceptable to have your dinner down your front.
I’d be a goat: constantly eating, shoving and always trying to escape.
I’d be a boa constrictor: I have dry skin, love cuddles and can eat a whole sheep in one sitting.
I think I’d make a decent heron. I love the water and I can probably pull off casual elegance as long as I stay very still. Movement inevitably leads to chaos and thrashing and feathers all over the show.
I remember wanting to be a duck when I was young. I certainly thought that there was always a chance it could happen. I think I’d still quite like to be a duck. Splashing about and getting fed by toddlers. I just wish ducks were less rapey… Or not at all rapey.
Zebra. A bit like a pony, only in pyjamas.
I too would be a goat. They love dinner so much. On some islands they’ve nearly eaten turtles extinct because they scoffed all the foliage protecting the turtles from the sun. Idiots. But I love how much they love their dinner.
It’s got to be the American black bear. A creature of comfort, I like being warm, well-fed and mildly entertained. Inhabiting the body of a black bear gets me closest to these goals. I’d be a scary enough predator (herbivores can never truly relax). I’d get to eat all sorts of rubbish. Sometimes, I’d even get mortal. Bears are known to get drunk on fermented fruit.
They’re primarily solitary animals, so I wouldn’t have to put up with other people’s/bears’ shit for too long. Bears DO have enough intelligence to open jars and doors and can climb trees, so I wouldn’t be bored. Then there’s hibernation, eating what I want/when I want, sleeping for ages, stomping around in my big old claw-feet, getting leathered on strawberries. That’s for me.
Some of Standard Issue's brilliant women's carefully crafted words for your reading pleasure.