I got an email from a friend today letting me know that she was putting her adorable puppy down because of major health issues that could not be cured. Just hearing this sad news clenched my stomach, an uncomfortable tension inside me, and I stole a momentary glimpse of the cute little faces of my three fury children (a chocolate lab, white lab, and Himalayan cat) with a guilty relief that they were all healthy and happy. I know through personal experience how easy it is to consider these amazing animals as extended members of the family, spoiling them with treats, pampering them with baths (and cute little haircuts for my cat), throwing tennis balls for the pups to retrieve, swimming with them, and cuddling with them in the evenings, curled up inside a soft, fluffy blanket while reading a book, or watching TV. I could have just had the worst day of my life, and there my babies are, excited to see me, panting with flapping pink tongues hanging out of their mouths, unknowingly cheering me up with their innocent, unwavering, and unconditional love. Oh, to be more like one of these amazing animals, I sometimes think to myself, as it seems they know more about love than most people do, and yet we—humans—are more intelligent, with the capability of flying spacecrafts to the edges of the universe, the knowledge to build computers that in turn can do all the thinking for us, and the architectural masterminds of skyscrapers and weather proof buildings that can survive earthquakes, hurricanes, and the most torrential of snowstorms. But even with all that power and competence, are we missing out on something from the depths by which we are incapable, an emotion of love best demonstrated by our adoring pets?