“Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.”  Colette

I think I’m growing allergic to people. I never answer door when the nice folks from Jehovah’s Witnesses come around, I hardly ever pick up the phone because I can barely speak above a whisper. My wife has to fetch my prescription drugs for me because I’m fearful of catching something in the drugstore. I can’t stand being in a crowd (a crowd being three or more people), and as Andy Rooney once observed, “I have more friends than I have time to keep.” I also have the problem that I can’t remember anyone’s name. (I engraved a name badge for my wife.)

I wasn’t always a hermit, but the COVID crises changed me. My doctors warned me that if I caught the dreaded disease there was a good chance it would kill me, so I avoided people all together. Heck, I wouldn’t even talk to people on the telephone thinking the nasty virus could be carried over telephone or cable wires.

I was always kind of a loner and a recluse anyway who preferred the company of animals and during the two-year COVID crises I relearned something I’ve known all along... pets make the best people.

One of the reasons I like dogs so much is they don’t have cell phones. At least not yet, anyway. Pets don’t invite you to lunch and then spend the entire time staring at their cell phones and then sticking you with the tab. That’s another great thing about pets, like me, they easily get bored with idle conversation. And dogs won’t act like they’re your friend and then try to ransom your computer like one scumbag recently did to me. Maybe a cat might try something like that but never a dog or a duck. Yes, I used to have two pet ducks named Chester and Charley and I miss them terribly. If you can watch a duck or a Berkshire hog go about its daily routine and it doesn’t bring a smile to your face then you are a very hard-hearted person indeed.

Whereas humans have mixed emotions and can love and hate you at the same time, animals can’t do that. They either love you or hate you. Period! And you’ll know right away. They’ll either try to scratch your eyes out or bite your arm off, or they’ll rub up against your leg looking for a gentle pet. That’s why they’re called “pets/”

ets are apolitical too. At one time I figured all dogs were Republicans and all cats were Democrats or Progressives, but I changed my mind when I met a toy poodle who was obviously a liberal, always looking for a handout and wouldn’t do a bit of work like a border collie or a police dog will do. I’m quite sure the toy poodle was an animal rightist too. So much for my theory that all dogs are Republicans.

I also like the fact that pets can keep a secret. Even though the canaries and parakeets I’ve owned tweeted or twittered non-stop, they never spread nasty rumors. Pets are also very good listeners. You can share your innermost thoughts with them and they don’t charge $500 an hour like a psychiatrist would. I’m carrying around a lot of emotional baggage, but I’ve never had to see a shrink for my depression, and I attribute that to spending hours and hours on the couch with my pets, not some psycho-doc. Even my turtle, who I rarely see, has been good for my emotional well-being. We’ve stayed close over the years because we’ve stayed apart.

I’ve never once had a pet ask me to borrow money or my weedwhacker. Pets won’t steal you blind, they’re great at fetching things and even if they know you have no intention of leaving anything to them in your will, they’ll still be your loyal friend. They’ll take a hard kick to the head trying to help you corral some cows, they’re the best theft deterrent system ever built and will do everything in their power to protect you. Even though we might make pets sleep outside, or we cage or tether them and perhaps even cook and eat them, pets will still be your best friend right up until their final breath.