From time to time, we all hear words or phrases that are irritating to us. In my personal category of bad words are those that are formally defined as Anthropomorphic. The definition of that 25-cent word is “ascribing human characteristics to non-human entities”.

Hopefully, after surviving our childhood indoctrination into the world of Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, Bambi and other talking animals, most of us are observant enough to separate the fantasy world of cartoons and the realities of animal life in our natural world. Unfortunately, there seems to be an ever-increasing number of folks who just can’t (or won’t) make the jump to reality when dealing with animals.

I see frustrating examples of this thought process (or lack of) in magazine articles, TV programs and casual conversations. Most of the time, it seems that the only way these folks can talk about animal behavior is by expressing it in terms of human emotions or activities. For example, some otherwise well-done nature programs insist on assigning human names to lions, bears, wolves, etc. and also to explain to us their behavior by letting us know what they are thinking at the moment.

I was having a conversation one time with a well-educated lady who lived most of her life in a big city environment. She was somewhat fascinated by our local wildlife, especially the deer that were coming around in the cold evenings after hunting season was over. When she inquired about how the deer kept warm and survived in our sometimes sub-zero temperatures, I described some of the wonderful adaptability of the animals: the insulating winter coat of hair, adjusting their diet as necessary, changing daily activities to conserve energy and other ways nature has provided to help them through the winter.

My guest listened patiently and then commented, “I still bet they have a place to get in when it’s really cold, maybe a cozy cave in the woods.” Sorry, lady: no caves, no blankets, no space heaters for the deer. Don’t insult these animals by projecting your human ideas and needs to them; they do just fine without us.

I recently heard a report on a TV program about a hiker who was badly mauled by a bear. After showing some of the 200 or so stitches and describing the pain involved with the wounds, our hero and a friend explained how they would not describe the location of the attack for fear that the authorities might want to destroy the animal.

After all, wasn’t the hiker trespassing in the bear’s living room? The bear must have had a good reason to be upset. The people who would profess to know what the bear (or any animal) was thinking really make me crazy. When a bear, coyote, or other toothy critter is attached to part of your anatomy, does it really matter what prompted his bad mood?

Let’s not forget that humans, as well as the bear, are entitled to use the outdoors. We are part of nature also, but we need to recognize that our minds and concepts are different than those of our four-footed friends. I guess it didn’t occur to our hiker that other humans might want to use the same path and might come across the same grumpy bear.

It was refreshing to read an entry on the Pennsylvania Great Outdoors Visitors Bureau website entitled “Elk Smart.”

“Characterizing elk or any wildlife by naming them degrades their wild essence. Personifying elk as humans takes away from their truly wild nature.” Well said; you get the idea.

This summer we had an interesting black squirrel visiting our bird feeder area. Unlike the usual behavior of the gray squirrels that climb all over our deck and chase the songbirds off the feeders, this visitor politely waited on the ground below, waiting for any spilled seeds to fall his way. This squirrel was easily identified, being a bit scruffy and seeming to have only part of his left ear. We could walk past him at five or six feet without causing any alarm, each of us going about our business. One day, I was cutting a piece of plywood with an electric saw, making quite a racket. When I looked up from my work, there was the black squirrel, about 10 feet away, watching me intently. I didn’t try to theorize about this squirrely behavior, nor did I try to make him into a pet. I just enjoyed having him around as long as he cared to visit.

Whether you’re a hunter or not, or even if you spend very little time around wildlife, we can all appreciate animals. Anyone who ever had a pet dog or cat can tell you about the various moods and behaviors they have witnessed from these domestic critters. Observing wildlife when you have a chance is always enjoyable and can reveal some interesting behavior; it just doesn’t have to translate into human logic or explanations.

You might go deer hunting this fall and try to “outsmart” a big buck; maybe predict what trail he will use on opening day or if he will be in the acorns or beech. Just don’t try to make him human; he’s real neat just as he is.

(Roger Sager, an Era outdoor columnist, can be reached at rogerjsager@gmail.com.)