We see ourselves these days as existing in an enlightened state of mind about pets. Apart from when we eat them, animals have been promoted from hunting buddy or colleague to family member. In big cities, little dogs go zooming around in little bags; cats get to go to the beach now.
The pandemic brought more animals into our homes, often for the first time in our adult lives. And as more of us became pet owners, some of us started to wonder about the whole enterprise. Were we really equipped to care for another species, particularly in a cramped apartment? Were we depriving the animals we love of their needs, their wants, and a good life? Were we receiving more than we were giving?
In This Issue
Is My Cat a Prisoner?
We are still working out our understanding with animals — and still projecting our human desires onto their every tail swish and yelp. Does caring for another creature necessarily make us better people? Behind each ethical question is a secret about ourselves. How badly or callously we might treat them, how little attention we give them. The long, hot weekends our cats spend alone in our apartments while we’re dating. The cursory two-minute pee walk we give our doodles; the tiny slivers of attention we offer animals that have spent their lives absurdly devoted to us. And then the hard calculations we make at the end of a pet’s life, gambling enormous amounts of money on confusing medical procedures. With the hope of answering some questions, we spoke to veterinarians and animal experts and pet owners — should we even call them owners? — about our relationships with our least communicative, most mysterious loved ones.