Bunnies and mice: There sure are a lot of them in children’s picture books. You also see a lot of lions, bears, cows, pigs, ducks, sheep, frogs, and all kinds of bugs—not to mention cats and dogs. In fact, it’s the humans who are the endangered species in books for young children. They pop up every now and then—like in Eric Carle’s The Very Lonely Firefly and A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh—but they’re clearly supporting characters.
As far as my kids are concerned, many of the animals populating their books might as well be monsters likes the ones on Sesame Street or dinosaurs. They wouldn’t know the difference. They’ve never seen a monkey or giraffe in real life—or for that matter, a cow or a pig. And living in the suburbs, except for an occasional trip to the petting zoo, it’s unlikely we’ll be running into farm animals any time soon. Yet it occurred to me, here I am teaching my 10-month-old to identify a cow and pig. Not only that, I’m also teaching him the sounds they make: moo, oink oink, quack quack. You know the drill. As for my toddler, she believes that cows can jump over the moon and bears like to sit in chairs.
I wonder why animals are a big hit when it comes to storytelling for children. As kids grow older, they graduate to human characters—though animals still make a strong showing (consider The Tale of Despereaux). I’m sure somebody has written a thesis on the topic. Maybe it has to do with traditional storytelling going as far back as Aesop’s fables, where animals were used to teach morals. Maybe farm animals have a big presence because generations ago, a majority of children lived and worked on farms. Or maybe it’s because we think children are more in tune with nature.
Whatever the reason, all these adorable, anthropomorphic animals have caused some parental dilemmas in our family. I was worried the first time my daughter pointed to the food on our dinner table and asked: “What’s that.” Without thinking, I replied. “It’s chicken, sweetie.” Uh-oh. How do I explain how the chicken on this plate is related to the cute chickens in her books? I need not have worried. She accepted my explanation without a second thought. In her mind, it’s as if there are two different kinds of chickens. Maybe that will change, when she starts putting two and two together. I’ll deal with that later—when I have a tween on my hands who declares herself to be a vegetarian.
Then there’s the issue of killing insects in our house. I wish I could say I follow the Buddhist way of life, but if there’s a fly or spider in the house—well, chances are, it’s a goner. But since we’ve been reading The Very Busy Spider and other books featuring pretty ladybugs and charming crickets, it’s hard to explain to your child why you’re squishing this bug to death. So my husband and I tell a little white lie: We explain that we’re taking this bug back outside to its home (which sometimes happens, depending on the insect. But not very often). I’m not sure she’s buying that anymore.
Okay, here’s my last question concerning this topic, though I could go on. With mice being one of the more popular animals in books for young children (If You Give a Mouse a Cookie is just one example), why is it that so many of us grow up to be scared of them?
Why do you think animals are so popular in children’s books?
Sandra Lee Rella, mother of two, is a freelance editor and writer, and a former children's book review editor.
