To the Pet Moms of the World

In honor of yesterday’s Mother's Day celebration, here’s a love letter to every woman who has ever kept another being alive.

In the crazy flurry that took place last week across American stores stockpiled with colorful bouquets and rows of pastel cards and even glitter balloons…

There was something missing.

Don’t get me wrong; I love Mother’s Day. I am a mother. I have a mother. It’s one of my favorite days of the year because, thanks to my amazing family, it’s the one day I do absolutely nothing.

But all the hubbub and celebration is dedicated to a very specific kind of woman: the one who carried a human child. The one who packs lunches and schedules orthodontist appointments and claps at recitals.

That woman deserves every glittery, embossed word of gratitude and whatever flowers, brunch, and sweet jeweled gift that might accompany them—on any day, not just Mother’s Day. Because Mothering is hard.

But there are lots of mothers the cards forgot...

• Like the woman who sets her alarm for 2 AM to syringe-feed a kitten that fits in the palm of her hand.

• Or the woman who wakes up twice throughout the night to take her aging dog outside because he’s lost control of his bladder.

• Or the woman who googles, at midnight with tears running down her face, whether her gecko’s color change means stress or shedding.

Maybe this woman was never pregnant. Maybe she’s never been called “Mom” by anything that can speak.

But by every meaningful measure of the word, she is absolutely and completely a mother.

The 3 AM Test

My working definition of motherhood is this:

When something fragile cries out in the dark, do you get up?

Do you assess?

Do you offer love even when you’re tired or hungry or stressed with your own life?

You don’t do it because anyone will praise you. You’re not fascinated by the cry or drawn to intellectually problem-solve.

You do it, you drag yourself out of that bed, because there is a small, fragile life on the other end of that sound. Somewhere deep inside, you know that you are meant to care for it and help it through its troubles.

Because that life is in your hands.

When you look at it that way, it’s really no different from the woman pacing the living room with a colicky newborn. The woman pacing the living room with an anxious rescue dog is doing the exact same precious work.

And even though that human baby will probably grow up to write her own appreciation for her mom, initially with rainbows and later with jagged poems and eventually with store-bought greeting cards...

The dog never will.

But the love that comes from both is identical in appreciation and emotion.

Love Isn’t Stratified

I bring all this up because I’ve observed a subtle snobbery in our world about what kind of love “counts.” Love from children, of course. Spouses, perhaps. Parents, naturally.

But pets? Is it the same?

Should we classify it or put that love in hierarchical order?

Are those mothers less than? Are they just different?

No. None of that. They are mothers. Mothers are mothers. Love is love.

Caring for another living being is not a static definition. It’s not a black and white image that has to fit into a certain box.

It doesn’t matter if the creature has hooves or scales or paws or big blue eyes and golden hair.

It doesn’t matter if that love comes from a hamster mom buying a bigger habitat because she read that standard cages are too cramped and cause stress.

Or the bird mom who spent hours on YouTube learning to clip wings safely so her cockatiel could flap around her apartment.

Or the reptile mom who runs a humidifier nightly in her bedroom because that’s what her ball python needs to thrive.

These women are not playing a game. They don’t do it just for fun. It’s actual, often unglamorous, usually expensive, invisible labor that keeps a vulnerable life going.

That is mothering.

What You Give Without Thinking

If you’re a pet mom, you maybe never sat down to tally up all you’ve given, because you do it all without hesitation.

But if you were to list everything out, it’s staggering. Think about it...

• You’ve rearranged trips around feeding schedules.

• You skipped nights out because someone at home was scared of thunderstorms.

• You’ve spent grocery money on prescription food.

• You held your pet still while a vet worked and pretended to be calm so your pet would be calm.

• You’ve grieved losses that other people crushingly brushed off with, “It was just a pet.”

• You’ve been the steady presence in a life that depended entirely on you for everything.

And you did it all without any of the cultural scaffolding that human mothers benefit from (though I want to add there’s plenty to be improved in the human world in terms of honoring stepmothers and foster mothers and mothers who have no actual connection to kids but parent them all the same).

Back to the pet mother, there’s no baby shower. No parental leave. No school pickups where other moms nod knowingly or offer you a spot in the carpool.

It’s just you and a leash or a litter box or a tank or a saddle and your own daily, un-witnessed choice to show up.

And you’re doing it.

On Being Needed

Also, please never forget that there’s beauty in doing what you do. There’s a particular dignity that comes from being needed and answering the call from something that can’t fend for itself.

Plus, it’s a way to sidestep some of the limits around having children. You don’t need a uterus to be a devoted pet mom. You don’t need a marriage license or a partner.

You’re simply making the choice to, over and over again, put another creature’s needs alongside your own and treat them with respect.

This kind of devotion to guiding a creature through its life shapes you into a different person. Softer in some ways, fiercer in others. Maybe more patient. Probably more tired. Likely more tender.

All of this is what motherhood does to a human. It happens whether the dependent has fingers, feathers, or fur.

A Nod From The Rest Of Us

So in honor of the United States’ recent Mother’s Day celebration, I’d like to give a nod to every woman who has ever

• woken up early to walk a dog in the rain

• talked baby talk to a parrot,,

• driven across town to find the particular brand of food her cat will tolerate,

• held a dying rabbit and whispered to it that it was loved,

• or made room in her life for the care of another…

Know that the world sees you. Or at least, right over here in this corner of it, we see you. I see you.

You may not have brought another human into this world, but you don’t need one in order to be celebrated for this particular honor.

What you did, what you’re doing, is noble and beautiful on its own: you took something small and breathing and you said, “I’ve got you. I am here for you.” You kept your word. That’s motherhood. That has always been the essence of motherhood.

Happy Mother’s Day yesterday, today, and all the days of the year. Thank you for what you do.💓

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