My 12-year-old cat, Matisse, has lived in nine apartments across five U.S. cities. Through feast and famine, she’s been the one source of stability in my adult life. My phone’s photo app reminds me that whether one, three, or seven years ago, I could be found taking photos of Matisse daily, putting her in holiday costumes, waking her up from her naps, and cuddling on furniture owned and discarded.
The Korean immigrant in me, who was taught to value frugality and human needs first, feels queasy about the extravagance I give a little cat I picked up at the SPCA. While I buy myself generic pantry items and ignore a ringing toothache for months, Matisse only gets the highest-quality pet food and immediate vet care for any ailment perceived, no matter how small. But I find joy in taking care of a little creature that depends on me so much.
Looking around, on Instagram and in the real world, I know I’m not the only millennial doting on my beloved pet while shunning more traditional avenues toward adulthood like actual human babies. It turns out, our generation owns the biggest share of America’s pets—35%—despite only making up 22% of the U.S. population.
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Given the economic and career instability that plagues our generation, this fact surprised me. Pets are not exactly cheap, and millennials are not exactly wealthy. We own less than 5% of the country’s wealth, starting our adult lives in the deep shadows of the 2008 housing crisis, working through the rise of the gig economy and stagnant wages, and now, in what should be the prime of our career and family-building years, we’ve been hit with a global pandemic. At any given time, I have a friends actively looking for work and others working side jobs. I myself have switched positions about every two years, which actually feels long compared to some of my peers.
Instability is part of the equation on how to navigate our adulthoods.You’d think that would be a barrier for millennial pet ownership, but instead, it seems to be more of a motivator.Pets have become more than just cute animals we feed and take care of. They represent something — maybe the one thing — stable in our lives.
After all, animals are far less expensive than other traditional markers of adulthood like home ownership and children. Sure, a large dog can cost $1,000–2,000 a year on average with food, shots, and other supplies, but childcare costs are over 10 times as much in a city like San Francisco, averaging $20,000–30,000 annually. Famously, San Francisco is home to 10 times more dogs than children. I’ve easily seen more dogs in strollers than babies in the city. And while millennials’ love for houseplants is well-documented, furry friends are more responsive and cuddly, and they provide us with routine and responsibility during times of duress.
Pets have become more than just cute animals we feed and take care of. They represent something — maybe the one thing — stable in our lives.
Licensed social worker and psychotherapist Linda Heang explains that emotional regulation is a huge benefit of having pets during unstable times. “Petting your furry family members can release endorphins which also help reduce stress, anxiety, and depression,” she says. “Pets also require a level of attention and can provide a sense of purpose and responsibility which can be protective factors for those who experience suicidal ideation or have history of […] suicide attempts. So, pets are good for people and are good company.”
Our pets have come to our rescue during this era of seemingly chronic instability. Shelters, rescues, and breeders in the U.S. report increased demand for dogs (now nicknamed pandemic puppies) as we’ve hunkered down under shelter-in-place restrictions.
Sherri Franklin, founder of Muttville Senior Dog Rescue in San Francisco, says, “The silver lining of Covid is that so many people realized the many ways a furry four-legged creature improves your quality of life. Nine months into this and we are still getting 10 times the adoption applications that we received just last year.”
Kristin Hoff, adoptions manager at Muttville, said it was amazing to see 90-plus dogs in their care on March 17 be in a forever home by April. “This included very old dogs, blind dogs, diabetic dogs, all kinds of senior mutts,” she says. “We were and still are so happy to see so many matches being made.”
The SF SPCA has also seen an increase in adoptions during the pandemic — in a typical year, they would adopt out about 4,000 animals. But since March, they’ve received several thousand adoption applications per month, said Krista Maloney, communications manager at SF SPCA.
“Animals who used to spend long periods of time in the shelter, like seniors and special needs animals, are now finding loving homes much more quickly,” she said. Given the demand, though it’s also required more work and supplies, and they are in need of donations.
New dog mom N. Anjuli brought home an eight-week-old pandemic puppy in late May and doesn’t regret the decision one bit. “Having that influx of new life has required me to focus on something other than *waves hands* all this,” she told me over Twitter. “Puppy doesn’t care if I’m in a depressive hollow — he’ll poop on my rug anyway.”
The pets we already had before the pandemic have been no less of a lifeline, helping us focus on what’s important. Writer and editor Silas Hansen says “Having the daily routine of needing to feed my cat and play with him is pretty much the only thing that has kept me going.”
I know how that feels. Matisse, with her nonchalant, elderly kitty attitude, has kept me grounded, too. Her calm presence has always made me feel secure in my surroundings — even more so during these chaotic times. She doesn’t understand there’s a global pandemic happening. She’s just happy that I’m home more often to play and cuddle with her. Working from home also allowed me to get to know her habits better, her routine, her favorite spots, and sadly, her ailing body.
We’ve taken this time to make the home more enjoyable for her arthritic joints, including staircases for her to climb onto high perches and an elevated stand for her food, which I’m sure she appreciates. She spends her days focusing on what is important: fresh food, clean water, a nice sunbeam to bathe in during the day. It’s made me realize that ultimately there’s so much for me to be thankful for — and maybe everything will be okay. I know my peers can relate.
