Two parrots sitting on a person's shoulders laughing. Companion pets improve your mental health, and your sense of humor.

Companion pets improve your mental health, and your sense of humor.

Companion pets improve your mental health, and your sense of humor.

Companion animals are a friend to travel through life’s minutes. No matter who you’ve chosen to share your journey with, your companion is bound to keep you on the straight and hilarious. They can’t help themselves. And you started it, anyway.

Dogs.

Dogs offer a reminder that adorable adoration comes with a side of gross. The universe requires balance. You can’t have that adorable, dedicated soul without the adorable drool. All dogs come with a side salad.
  • Toy sized dogs (consider the Yorkshire, Chihuahua, Pug, Pomerania, Maltese) come with the side salad of dictatorship and indignation.
  • Large sized dogs (consider Golden Retriever, Staffordshire, Giant Poodle or Schnauzer, Hound, and Husky) come with different choices of side salads that all deliver the same level of Code Orange Alert did you see, hear, smell that!?!?
  • No matter the size, and there are more than the two I listed, dogs bring their quirk baggage when they move in. Side salads and quirk baggage.

Cats.

I'm hesitant to write anything here for offending our neighbor's cat. I know, I've been tolerated by three cats in my life. Cotton, Ren, and SuzyQ. Their tolerance alone shows the greatness of cats. Cats are awesome and should be revered with tuna.

Parrots.

Parrots offer nothing more than what they would offer another parrot. They didn’t sign up to be a pet for you. If you can’t keep up, don’t step up. You can’t have an intelligent flying Being in your life without focusing on the thing with the superpowers you don’t have.

  • Macaws. A macaw will look down at you from their preferred perch as if you’ve asked the epoch of stupid questions. Why should they get down? Why should she step up? Why should they do anything? Considering they’re the ones with superpowers in the room? I know I have two of them. One Blue and Gold, one Scarlet. The B&G is a lazy diva and has no interest in being a parrot. The Scarlet is a territorial jerk who loves my husband and labeled me a Homeland Security Threat.
  • Small Parrots (consider parrotlet, cockatiel, parakeet, quaker, lovebird and, on a side note, do NOT underestimate a dove) have issues. They don’t think they have issues. That is an issue. I know, I have four cockatiels, and have counseled many a small parrot servant. They are loud, messy, demanding, adorable equal to their size in their own head, and will own you within a few days of arriving. I’m serious. You are now owned by a little bird. You’ll like it, too. It’s a vicious circle.

Rabbits.

A house bunny is the second-best option after a dog. They are a hopping dog with long ears. But without the concern of pleasing you. Rabbits demand a good amount of concern. And quiet. And amusements. And you doing what you’re told. Now. I know, I have a rabbit named Leonidas. Yes. We named him after a Spartan King. No point in denying the truth of bunnies. Leonidas Rabbit demands his condo updated, and filled with Dixie Cups, bedding, paper towel rolls, one freshly washed stuffed bear, 2 pristine sheets of paper towels, small cardboard boxes for throwing, and a bowl of bunny kibble. Every day. Royalty has a short nerve ending.

Guinea Pigs.

Guinea pigs are actors born of the deep embedded method acting school. Drama is there go to move. Shakespearean tragedy. Open the refrigerator door. ALAS, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio! Open food packaging. “My salad days, when I was green in judgement, cold in blood.” Walk by the condo. “Et tu, Brute?” Pause near the condo while eating food. “Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once!” "Wheek!"

Werthers attended the Julliard School Guinea Pig of Drama. Opening the refrigerator sends him into the assassination scene of Julius Caesar. I’m not sure if he wants lettuce or if he’s dying of sword inflicted wounds on the senate steps on the Ides of March. He slides backwards, slowly down the side of his guinea pig cage, grabbing chest fur looking at me. Give it a rest, piggle. I’m not Marcus Junius Brutus.

Companion pets are good for a human’s mental health and our humor skills.

Our companions, no matter the species, teach us deep truths.

  • We are enough. We are more than enough. Right now. Love yourself as much as they love themselves.
  • If you have food, shelter, peace, and a friend, you are wealthy beyond measure. All the rest is drama. Most of the time, it’s someone else’s.
  • Today is all there is to have. Tomorrow isn’t here, and yesterday is gone. We can change neither. Let. It. Go. And. Go. Have. A. Snack.
  • Listen better than you did yesterday.
  • Laugh more than you did yesterday.
  • Take one more heartbeat moment to look someone you love in the eye.
  • Share food with someone you love.
  • Laugh again.
  • Create comfort for someone else. You will feel comforted.
  • Put yourself second.
  • Consider what the other has given up before worrying about what you don’t have. (This one is special for parrot people. A flying Being chooses us before demanding the freedom to use their superpower. They can love us that much.)

A guppy knows to make the most of every day by accepting everything given to them that day. Companion pets show us how to find the fun, the food, and the joy that already exists.

Kathy LaFollett is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com.

Comments

  • Wow! Deep truths, spot on!

    Nancy Alexander on

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