On Pets & Travels

I'm pretty sure I need to get a pet. I say this not only because I'm in love with my roommate's adorable new husky puppy, my friend's slightly evil black cat, and my mom's two fat cats who I've taken to calling monkeys; I say this also because I've been looking through a lot of my travel photos lately and a peculiar amount of them feature random pets I've befriended.

I'm pretty sure I know when this friending-random-pets-in-random-places obsession started.

It was here, in a third floor hostel in the old city of Barcelona. I was sick for the majority of the ten days I spent in Barcelona, and so lying on my hostel bed and willing the Spanish cold medicine I'd just bought to work, I hardly noticed my sister leave the room. Until I heard a squeal--a squeal I knew, a squeal reserved for only fluffy animals and chubby Asian children--and saw her dash back in. With this oh-so-happy striped cat smothered in her arms and a giddy smile on her face. (Followed closely by the old woman who'd checked us into the hostel, saying something in Catalan and cracking up at my sister's exuberance.) We force-cuddled the cat until he could no longer take it, and thus began our obsession.

We befriended animals in bars, like this little guy who clearly needed our love in a bar called L'Etoile in Paris. Or a chubby white bulldog who became our best friend during dinner and drinks in Biarritz, France (I'm sure the pate we passed to him under the table had nothing to do with that).

Or Stumpy, the sweetest tail-less black cat who did not want to leave us while we sipped red wine on a patio in Ravenna, Italy.

We pretty much made random animal friends anywhere we were,

 

whether we were watching the Milano Marathon,

taking a break from looking at churches in Parma, Italy,

or visiting a husky farm in Finland.

Yep, that's it--I need a pet.

Happiness...

I was inspired today by a quote my sister sent me: "For every second you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness" (as said by Emerson). So I started thinking about things that make me happy. Like

nuns on a gelato break,

 imitating husky puppies,

or statues,

(this makes me really happy),

nonsensical road signs,

thirsty gnomes,

my sister's giddy expression when a baby likes her,

laundry day in Venice,

 giant high-fives,

big dogs who think theyre small,

 and reindeer who want their privacy.

Who has sixty seconds to waste on anger with so many silly things to smile about?