The past few weeks, I’ve had a great opportunity to review the many reasons that helping and owning companion animals is such a worthwhile endeavor. It seems that everyone who has talked to me has provided a heartwarming story about owning pets. Everyone has that one story that makes his or her pet uniquely funny, memorable, wonderful and so much more than “just an animal.”

One woman I work with, for example, had been telling me that her dog, Ike, had recently been diagnosed with diabetes, and his diet would now have to be under tighter control. “He loves to eat everything, though,” she said. It reminded her of a time when Ike was younger, and she had been watching him out the window to make sure he did his business before coming back inside. But as he took care of things, she could see, to her horror, a streak of bright red coming from him. She ran out to the back yard to grab the sample to take to the vet’s office, but on closer inspection, she realized that what Ike was passing was … her favorite red underwear.

Doing things they shouldn’t be doing, and going where they don’t belong — that made me think of my late friend Jan, who lived in Wamego. Her beautiful Russian blue kitten had figured out early how to open the kitchen cabinets and play around inside them with all those fun pots and pans. I was at a party at Jan’s house one evening, and while I was helping out in the kitchen, Jan asked me to grab a serving spoon. I remember how startled I was on opening the drawer and finding, among the silverware, a Russian blue kitten staring back at me. Seems she found out that crawling up into the drawers was just as fun as the wide-open expanses of the cabinets.

Companion animals are happy to entertain anyone at any time. If we can actively join in on their fun, they love it, and if we can’t do anything but watch, that’s OK with them, too. That’s why pets bring so much joy to older people who live in nursing homes and rehabilitation centers, and why the humane society regularly takes pets for visits to these centers around Lawrence.

A few months ago, another friend of mine who volunteers at the shelter offered to take her cocker spaniel, Jordy, to one of the local nursing centers instead of taking a shelter dog. Jordy is an avid tennis ball chaser, and he spent a joyous half-hour or more chasing balls down the hallways for the residents. Just as he was finally settling down, a resident using a walker entered the room. Jordy’s eyes absolutely lit up: on the bottom of the front legs of the walker, as on so many walkers, were … yellow tennis balls! And so to the delight of everyone in the room, little Jordy spent a bit more time trying to remove the tennis balls from his new friend’s walking aid.

Pets’ desire to care goes beyond trying to make just people happy. My late buddy, Dakota, had a real ability to sense what someone might need to be happy. One evening when his people were entertaining friends, he took it upon himself to entertain Fergie, the small poodle who had also come to visit. The problem was, Fergie was a bit older and wasn’t quite up for a good romp around the back yard or a lively wrestling match. None of Dakota’s best efforts seemed to be to Fergie’s pleasure. He lay down in the yard for a while, observing his friend and considering the situation. Suddenly, the light bulb came on. He walked to the back door and scratched to go in. He disappeared upstairs for a short time, then returned. In his mouth, he carried his favorite toy: a buff-colored star with much of its stuffing missing. He carefully laid Starman in front of Fergie, and stepped back to see whether that, in fact, might be the way he as a host could entertain his guest.

How could we do without them? How could we manage without their generous sharing — the catnip toys in our shoes and the wet rawhide slime on our pants? Would our houses really be homes without cat hair on our sofas and doggie kibbles scattered across our kitchen floors? Without someone rubbing wet noses on our car windows or chasing flies around our vases and lamps? Would we really feel welcomed home without banging tails and fuzzy purrs in our ears?

Your continued support of the Lawrence Humane Society helps us provide this love to homes in our community every day; we thank you for your help. And we hope to see you at our annual Pawsible Dream Auction on Oct. 9!

— Sue Novak is vice president of the board of the Lawrence Humane Society.