The Quiet Ways Pets Shape My Life

A few of my loves, left to right, Sage, me, Lily, Thistle, Bleu, Yeung Ling, Frankie, Buddy

There’s something beautifully steady about life with my pets (the current count is 9 but has been as high as 16 in the past). They are constant without fail; they are always waiting for me; I am their caregiver and the perpetual center of their universe. I set their metronome in motion each day; they withhold the beginning of their day until I signal it to begin - such devotion. They know the set routine - it is their clock; it lets them know "hey, it's morning" (here comes breakfast) or "hey, it's raining" (Mom, will not want us to get wet), and "hey, Mom is working upstairs" (they hear me & I listen for them) or "hey, Mom is gone for awhile, but she will be back soon" (she told us on her way out, and she is reliable), and finally, "yay, it's dinnertime, our favorite part of the day!" (because Mom sits with us to watch television & shares morsels from her plate with us). My dogs, cats, rabbits never rush their lives. Their schedule is set by repetition, and they react only to changes in their routine. My companions have hovered near in quiet moments that might otherwise have gone unnoticed - the fledging of the baby bluebirds from the backyard nest box or the blooming of the gardenias, or the phone call that reduced me to tears. They have comforted me in the loss of my friends and their brethren, allowing me to cry into their shaggy necks, and over time, without asking for anything more than my presence, they have become a most important part of my life's rhythm.

My pets are my trusted, reliable life companions. If I wish to go for a walk, they are ready to go, too - no matter their aches and pains, or limp. They never complain or grumble about their pain. If I go outside with a container of seeds, they know I am feeding the birds & romp excitedly in circles. If I say the magical words, "car ride", they have won the lottery. They are my emotional buoys, holding me up and bobbing along beside me, no matter how choppy the waters. They are my safe harbor - and I am theirs. They constantly communicate that I am needed. Even more, they communicate that I am wanted - something an empty-nest mother never feels enough, anymore.

Each morning, they meet me exactly where I am, whether it is joy, irritation with life, or somewhere comfortably in between. Lily lies at my feet resolutely while Wilder actively paws for more attention, and the cats purr loudly while basking in patchy window sunlight, accompanied by the soft hay-munching sounds of rabbits — this soundtrack is so elemental for me it should be a top-tier component of the periodic table. It fulfills an empty space not suited for substitutes. Their presence reminds me to slow down, connect with their sweet spirits and to be fully available to them.

In a world that moves too quickly, in extreme unexpected ways, upsetting my personal equilibrium and trust, the kind of dependable presence pets bring to my life deeply matters and is held dear. They shape my life in a myriad of ways, and they have shaped me, too. The way I care, the way I take notice, the way I attempt to be a healer, the way I love without condition.

Because of that, it feels natural to reflect them in my living spaces, the things I adorn that space with, sometimes in what I wear, and the art surrounding the heart of my home.

Not just as decoration, but as a quiet acknowledgment of something deeply true:

These lives, shared with me, matter. And they always will.