The "Sacrificial Animal" Trope

Animals in Fiction, Pt. 3

Animal “sacrifices” have been used throughout human history, often as a means of placating some god or another so the humans who worship that god will receive some sort of benefit. The term sacrifice necessitates that something valuable is lost; the person making the sacrifice is giving up one thing in the hopes of receiving something better.

While animals were valuable commodities in the past, they paid the ultimate price, unwillingly, whereas the humans who sacrificed them lost only the benefits those animals gave them and received all the rewards (such as good standing in their community or benefits if the sacrifice “worked”).

While the stakes for animals in fiction are certainly lower, writers still use that sacrificial mentality when incorporating animals into their stories. Animal characters, though often beloved, are treated with inferior moral worth and are subject to being sacrificed to serve the story’s needs.

While there is no definitive right or wrong way to incorporate animals in stories, there are certainly better and worse ways. Below, I’ve expounded on the two ways animals are sacrificed in stories, each accompanied by a less-than-ideal example. (Spoilers ahead.)

Sacrifice to the Characters

This form of sacrifice occurs when an animal character chooses to sacrifice themselves for a human character, throwing themselves into harm’s way when, in reality, no animal would ever think or act in such a way.

Bonedog, from Nettle & Bone

Nettle & Bone is a 2022 fantasy novel by T. Kingfisher where a princess, Marra, who has spent the last 15 years of her life safe in a convent embarks on a quest to save her sister from an abusive husband, picking up a few companions along the way. The first of these we meet is Bonedog, a carry-over from the short story from which this novel developed.

Marra crafted Bonedog from—you guessed it—bones and wire, bringing him back to life once he’s all put together. After his revival, he runs off, abandoning his re-creator, though he, for no explicable reason, returns by the end of the chapter.

Throughout the novel, the author repeatedly refers to Marra as his master, with the implication often being that Bonedog himself views his relationship with Marra in this way and is loyal to her for no reason other than her bringing him back to life. This is just one part of Bonedog’s “dumb puppy” persona, being the cute, loveable, devoted dog who’s just along for the ride, regardless of his own interests or fears. (His personality is further simplified when the group meets other undead persons, all of whom are human. The human spirits understand that they are dead, whereas Bonedog is happily ignorant to the obvious fact that he can’t perform many functions a living dog could, such as eating.)

In the novel’s climax, Bonedog throws himself into the action, killing himself not to save his “master” but to protect Agnes, one of Marra’s other companions, seemingly understanding the critical role Agnes must play in saving Marra’s sister. Though he is rewired and revived again in the denouement, as a reader, I felt absolutely nothing for his death other than Oh, so we’re doing this again. His sole character trait was being a regular (albeit fleshless) dog and doing regular dog things, until his final act of heroism came out of the blue.

While anthropomorphism is often required for animal characters, using it to make animals act in a way that goes against all instinct or intelligence—especially when it doesn’t comply with their established characteristics throughout the rest of the novel—stretches the limits of belief and reduces them to mere puppets rather than realistic characters.

Sacrifice to the Creators

This form of sacrifice occurs when an animal dies for plot progression, not willingly giving up their own lives but created by the writer solely to be killed as the plot escalates towards the climax.

Baxter, from Shepherd

Shepherd is a 2021 horror film written and directed by Russell Owen in which a man, Eric, takes a shepherding job on an isolated Scottish island to escape the guilt of killing his wife. Along for the ride is Baxter, his Border Collie and a cliché if there ever was one.

As soon as the duo arrives at the dilapidated house, Baxter begins his duty as a dog in a supernatural horror flick and starts acting strangely, sensing some unnatural presence. He gets up to the usual antics: growling and barking at nothing, lying down and looking depressed, and refusing to come when he’s called (even though he always comes!).

One day, Baxter runs off and—brace yourself (no, really)—is later found skinned, along with the 600 sheep on the island. Because…?

When it comes to arthouse horror—where the monster is either wholly, or representative of, a metaphor—the story’s reality is often left up to audience interpretation. Is anything that happens in the movie actually real, or is it all just a manifestation of Eric’s guilt? There’s no definitive answer. Whether Baxter really died, however, is irrelevant because it is still part of the story, meaning the audience is supposed to gain some information from its inclusion.

Here are some reasons why this is problematic:

1. Eric is the protagonist in the story and the monster is targeting him because of the guilt he feels for his wife’s death. Baxter is completely unrelated to this core story, but he pays the ultimate price—like the animal sacrifices of yore—for Eric’s sins.

2. Baxter was created and killed to serve the plot. His death was designed to torment Eric and progress the story along, forcing him to confront the fact that there is something truly evil going on and he needs to address it rather than continue denying it. It also serves to further isolate him, leaving him completely alone as the monster gains strength to prepare for its final assault.

3. The brutality of Baxter’s death was contrived to disturb the audience, showing us that the villain is—guess what?—like super evil (as if we didn’t already know that).

4. Like Bonedog, Baxter had no developed personality, leaving the audience—okay, me—largely apathetic to his demise. His death lacks any emotional resonance other than Wow, that’s pretty messed up.

At the end of the day, it feels like a cheap scare and minimizes the animal characters to nothing more than plot devices. We all know as soon as the family dog appears that they’re either going to die or, more recently, miraculously survive after being imperiled. It’s not scary anymore, just reductive.

Animal Sacrifices for the Modern Writer

As I mentioned in “Creating Stories That Elevate Animal Rights,” I don’t have a problem with animals being killed in stories. My issue comes from the execution (no pun intended), as I’ve detailed above. As long as animals are included in stories, they should be treated as characters like the other human characters, rather than falling prey to prejudices and stereotypes.

be conscious, be kind, be vegan