Finding your inner animal

Toby, a friend, and I have a theory that everybody has an inner animal. This is the animal that you're most like and follow similar behavior patterns of. Toby has a tendency to become completely mentally and physically paralysed when faced with any sort of pressure - much like an opossum. His only method of defense is, essentially, to play dead.

I have long laughed at another friend, Cristabel, who is remarkably cat like. She'll sleep for the majority of the day, only waking to eat and wondered about the house. The only other activity she takes part in is grooming, but only between naps.

This is how Toby puts finding your inner animal:

I think that the time it takes to find your inner animal is mainly due to the necessary time it takes for most of us to overcome the obstacle of pride. What I mean to say is that most of us are not lions, although at first many of us undoubtedly fancy the notion that we are. I believe that it takes some time for one's pride to be eroded by the caustic truth. Thus at first you might say "ok, so perhaps I'm no lion, I'm more of a water buffalo", and then "well maybe I'm not a water buffalo, but rather a St Bernards dog". So with time and self-realisation one is gradually stripped, layer by layer, of the pride and self-esteem that once supported your personality. Not to do this though, is to lead a life of ill-comfort and niggling frustration in the knowledge that you are only deceiving yourself.

I have thought about this for a while and the closest thing I resemble is a squirrel, but not a very good one. I have this remarkable habit of keeping things, or rather, hoarding them. I have boxes filled with boxes of things that might be useful one day. I'll find something, then squirrel it away thinking "this will be useful". But, not only do I not go back, on the very odd occasion that I might remember I have something, I'll have no idea where it is and it will probably be one of the few items a year a throw out.

I actually caught myself putting a box of plasters in a half-full box of re-writable CDs this week, thinking that I'll remember that and come back to them later. I am a retarded squirrel.

What animal are you? Think about it.