“I considered animals bearers of a higher truth, and I wanted to align myself with their knowledge. I thought animals were the only beings capable of understanding me.”

In many respects, Lucy’s story is the tale of a search for acceptance. In her early years, the only place she believes she can find this is in the company of animals, because they do not judge her and she believes they possess an understanding of higher matters, beyond physical appearance, that mirror her own preoccupations.

“Sarah would have cried horrendously, but I was courageous and didn’t cry and thus was good. It seemed a natural enough equation at the time.”

When Lucy first undergoes medical treatment, her mother compares her favorably to her twin sister, Sarah, remarking on the fact that Lucy, unlike her sister, remained stoic in the face of fear and pain. Lucy takes this to mean that not crying equates to bravery and bravery equates to personal worth. This understanding shapes her emotional life for many years.

“One had to be good. One must never complain or struggle. One must never, under any circumstances, show fear and, prime directive above all, one must never, ever cry.”

As her mother’s admonitions to be brave and refrain from crying continue throughout her medical treatment, they begin to affect Lucy, causing her to develop a guilt-ridden code of conduct designed to win her mother’s love and approval. When she sees a little boy hiding under a hospital bed, she is shocked and embarrassed for him and acknowledges the rules of “good” behavior that she has developed.