My first trial as an attorney was just weeks away. The victim in my case was only a child, and I had spent the afternoon getting to know her…coaxing her to share the horrifying story of the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the defendant. Losing this trial was not an option. I needed to regain my focus so that I could win – not only for this little girl, but to prove to myself that our justice system could, in fact, deliver justice. I needed to focus. The stress had become so significantly overwhelming that it had manifested in physical form. I could not breathe. And in that moment, my parrot Papaya was the only one who could comfort me. As I inhaled, the fragrance of her tiny feathers tickled my nose. She nuzzled me affectionately and my anxiety subsided. Animal therapy is underrated, I thought.

Since I was 8-years-old, my family always had parrots in the house. While growing up, I never gave much thought to the impact these animals were having on my life. They were family – always there for me, taken for granted, but loved with an intensity bordering on eccentric. No matter what life presented, I credited myself as being a strong individual, capable of withstanding any trial or tribulation. Though I suffered during my parents’ confusing, lengthy, and emotional divorce, it was bearable. In my youthful innocence, it never once dawned on me to give credit where it was due: to the tiny feathered beings sharing my bedroom, who provided a zone of peace and silliness. 

As the years passed, and I matured into adulthood, there came a period of time where parrots were no longer commonplace in my life. My university and law school years did not permit the time or stability required to keep a parrot. In 2015, as I approached my law school graduation, it had been three years since I had lived with any animal – the effect of this loss had begun to take its toll. Days before my last final, I received the unexpected news that my father had been admitted to the hospital, diagnosed with cancer. Across the country, I felt completely useless. Not a soul in my apartment to comfort me. Though I had always persevered through hardship, this was different. My life became a fog; I felt cold, with no idea if I was going in the right direction.

Then, one of my friends convinced me to ditch class and go play with the therapy dogs our campus had hired for exam week. In the quad, I sat across from a golden retriever named Daisy. She put her head in my lap, wagging her fluffy tail. As I ran my fingers through her silky locks, I felt the warmth of the California sun for the first time in days. It was as if Daisy was saying, “Everything’s okay.” And I trusted her. 

For me, the afternoon with Daisy illuminated the powerful impact that animals were having on my life. This realization was bolstered over the following years as I overcame challenges by engaging in animal encounters. Before the bar exam, I destressed by bonding with my friend’s hedgehog.  After a particularly difficult breakup, my sister’s budgie licked away my tears. Longing for my own feathered baby, I adopted my parrot, Papaya. She reduced my anxiety during the New York bar exam, guarded me through illness, comforted me during my cross-country move home, and ultimately, I grieved with her over my father’s passing. 

Animals were back in my life to stay. When my veterinarian boyfriend worried about an upcoming difficult work day, Pretty Cat leaped on the bed and curled up on his back. “She came because she knows I need her,” he said to me. I asked him his opinions on animal therapy based on his time working at the wildlife rehabilitation center in Costa Rica.  

“There is definitely a link between interspecies pairings,” he said. “Look at Maggie and Congo – they are different types of monkeys, but they have gained confidence with each other’s support. The same is true for the Amazon parrot and the parakeet, and the skunk and anteater.” 

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“But do you think people interacting with animals reduces stress?”

“But of course! Remember, we saw your resting heart rate drop twenty points when you volunteered at the center for one week? And why do you think the other volunteers come back every year? They feel peace among the animals; it’s addictive.”

It’s more than addictive. Around animals, we are our true selves, free from judgment we may experience with human companions. With animals, we can reap the benefits of solitude without the gut-wrenching feeling of loneliness. Animals communicate with energy, not words, thus freeing our souls from heartache when it is too hard to speak or think clearly – when emotions take over and we are at our most vulnerable.  

As I continued to prepare for my trial, I rushed home after work each day to my Papaya. As she snuggled at the nape of my neck, preening my hair, I fully understood that there was someone on this planet who loved me, no matter the outcome of this trial. At the moment she felt the stress release from my body, Papaya somersaulted away into a series of silly acrobatics that left me laughing uncontrollably. Papaya helped me to bond with the victim in my case; as it so happened, she too was an animal lover. Sharing Papaya with her allowed her to become comfortable with me, and in turn, made her more confident with the thought of testifying. It was because of Papaya’s influence that I eventually developed that confidence as well. 

I took a deep breath. “I got this,” I said to myself. And I did. 

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