Why We Love Our Pets

Chalupa has nothing to hide. When she is happy to see you, she leaps and bunny hops across the room.

When she’s tired, she tries and tries to hold up her head — she has FOMO — but eventually her eyes droop and she circles around into a comfortable sleeping position in her bed.

When she is mad and worried because there is no second breakfast (or second lunch or second dinner), she’ll scowl and look at you from across the room as if to say:

What kind of service is this?

When she is excited, she gets the zoomies and takes one toy after another from her basket into her crate, until there is a whole pile of toys in there.

When she snores, she snores. When she farts, she farts. When she kisses, she kisses. When she bites, oh does she bite. (NO BITING!)

I, on the other hand, messy human that I am, must consider how to navigate certain situations with care. I cannot say whatever is in my head or write certain things without considering the consequences. I must draw upon my resources — both inner and outer — not out of fear but because other people are involved. I want to preserve my integrity, deal respectfully with others, and also not cower from potential conflict. Especially that last part.

Revealing my own truths — and I mean only to myself — can leave me worked up and thus, vulnerable. Today I’m sitting with that, recognizing the impulse to flail, or lash out, or lots of other things and instead being still and kind to myself in the stillness.

Chalupa, though? Time to eat, time to pee, time to play, time to poo, time to bathe, time to nap, time to go on a car ride, time to go in her crate. I imagine this is why we love our pets so; they live with such utter transparency.