Since the day I was born, while my dog Pickle rested her head on my tiny self, protecting me, I’ve had a deep connection with animals. My mom, who has had over 60 pets in her life, has taught me this belief. Almost every day she says, “What would life be like without pets?” And I can’t imagine.

I believe that everyone should have a pet—or pets.

This belief matters because pets are friends, family, playmates and therapists. You can take long walks with a dog, getting exercise and reflecting over your day. Watching a fish swim in rhythmic circles might help you relax and focus on smaller, simpler joys. Have you ever had a cat sit with you, and start purring? Everyone should hear that calm, buzzing hum, that shows you just how much your feline friend appreciates your company.

But it isn’t just about having a cute animal around to make you smile. It’s about the importance of having someone who loves you without judgement or question. I think my belief connects to the larger idea of how animal relationships influence our mental health in positive ways. They challenge us to show love to others and ourselves. Humans can provide meaningful relationships, but sometimes they just can't give someone they love support and care in one hand without judgment in the other.

This belief cemented itself recently when I was feeling overwhelmed and stressed about a school assignment. I got up from the table and started walking away, discouraged, but my dog Poppy looked up at me with her big brown eyes, and so I got down on the floor with her. She immediately saw that I was feeling upset and, without hesitation, put her paws on my shoulders and licked my face until I was crying happy-tears instead. Her gentle, instinctive support made me feel loved and cared for, like I could feel as much as I needed to without being judged for my low moment.

Having pets makes every day—no matter how difficult or draining—a little bit better. Poppy wags her tail (which I suppose is understating it–she jumps up at me and does a happy dance) when I step through the door, welcoming me home. I can bury my face in my cat Cricket’s soft fur and feel safe. Junebug, his brother, “floomps” (a term coined by my mother, meaning he head-butts my leg and rolls onto my feet) and he makes me laugh.

In this world full of so much injustice, hate, and problems so big we just want to go back to bed, I believe that we all need a furry, feathered or scaled friend to make us feel safe and understood.