My son Nino wants a pet. Bad. Every time we go to the mall he lingers at the pet store, his face plastered to the windows as he begs me repeatedly for a dog, a cat, a fish, a lizard, a snake, a hermit crab, a Madagascar hissing cockroach … really anything, anything at all that could be considered a pet. I've tried to convince him to get a pet rock, but he is not interested. “I want something that lives and moves, Mami. Something I can hold and love.”

I understand. I grew up with pets. According to my mother, when I was three I was inspired to get a pet thanks to our favorite televised neighbor, Mister Rogers. Apparently, Mister Rogers had a whole show dedicated to the innumerable joys of pet ownership. I'm sure many parents of toddlers in the seventies really appreciated that one. Anyway, my kind mother generously agreed and took me to the pet store where I picked out not one, but two goldfish and creatively named them “Patty and Patty.”

Thus began a long line of thrilling pet ownership in our family including dogs, cats, hamsters, gerbils, rabbits, birds, frogs, turtles, and even a colorful iguana. I have very few childhood memories that don't include pets. We loved our pets and our pets loved us. Except the hamsters who were always trying to escape and made it deep into the heating vents of our home on various occasions.

Speaking of hamsters, my grandma also loved pets very much and a favorite story we heard repeatedly growing up involved my grandma doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on a pet hamster after an unlucky incident with the family cat.

Apparently, this hamster also had escapist tendencies and had managed to get loose within the house. Unfortunately for the hamster, Inky the Cat was the one who discovered him hiding beneath the couch. Inky enjoyed chasing the hamster throughout the house playfully, eventually capturing the hamster and carrying him proudly in his mouth before he deposited him carefully into his food dish. Everyone in my mom's family swears that Inky had no ill designs on the hamster, but the hamster clearly did not understand this. He promptly had a heart attack and died.

My grandma, horrified, dropped to her knees and began to do mouth-to-mouth on the tiny creature. But it was too late. He had already gone to be with the other hamsters in the sky.

Now that I think of it, Nino comes from a long-line of avid pet lovers. There is yet another incident of pet CPR in our family. Several years ago, my in-law's dog fell down a flight of stairs, suffered a heart attack, and stopped breathing. After getting Pet 911 on the phone, my father-in-law straddled the pooch and then gave him mouth-to-mouth and chest compressions while the pet paramedics walked him through it by phone every step of the way. Believe it or not, it actually worked and the dog survived.

Why is it that children adore pets so much? Is it for the same reason that we adults love them? Because they are small, helpless, and endlessly filled with love and devotion? No matter how long you are gone, pets are always happy when you return. They don't give you the cold shoulder because you forgot to feed them, didn't buy their favorite toy, or missed their ballet practice. They live forever in the moment and love you regardless.

One of the sweetest memories I have involving my childhood pets was a little kitten we had named Amigo. He was probably too little when we got him and he still missed his cat mommy a lot. He mewed pitifully in our hands and tried to nurse our fingertips. Although we had several other nice grown cats in our home, for some reason Amigo imprinted on our male dog, Rocky.

Rocky was a large German Shepard mix and did not resemble a cat in any way. But Amigo warmed up to him immediately. He followed him around, played with his toys, ate out of his food bowl, copied his doggy postures around the house, and snuggled with him on the carpet at night. He was so determined to be like Rocky that he even humped our legs in solidarity when Rocky was in heat and feeling frisky.

They were two bugs in a rug. Nothing could separate them. Until one day when my stepfather moved to Washington D.C. and decided to take Amigo with him. Rocky was left alone to wander the house aimlessly searching for his missing companion.

But no matter how sad he was inside, he always had enough energy to jump all over us and cheerfully slobber upon our faces when we came through the door after a long day. I think people are drawn to pets for the same reason we are drawn to children. Aside from their extraordinarily cuteness, strange yet adorable idiosyncrasies, and sincere devotion—they symbolize the ultimate promise of hope.

Pets and children always have the energy to show affection and happiness. They remind us of the inner joy that exists even when we are feeling deep sorrow. A child who is grieving or hurt will still always find something to smile about. If only we could all maintain such a cheerful spirit when we grow up and find ourselves encumbered with the complicated challenges of daily life.

Enough to leap up and lick a friend's face with joy. Or roll on the floor with our tongues hanging out. Or race around the room and pee on the floor in complete and utter excitement.