<p>A few days ago, a friend recalled his bizarre encounter with his to-be-landlord’s pet. After the basement apartment he had viewed checked all the boxes, he was at the landlord’s place upstairs to sign a few documents and close the deal. While he sat on the sofa, his eyes scanned the living room. In the corner sat a topless glass box with coloured pebbles and plastic plants. The bright light inside caught his eyes, and he looked closer. A black slithering face emerged from behind the rocks, and within seconds, a patterned body glided along the side. His jaw dropped! It was a snake — a ball python. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he rushed out of that door in horror. “Who keeps snakes as pets in their houses?”, he wondered. Turns out, nearly a million Americans do! </p>.<p>Exotic animals, such as snakes, rats, ferrets, hamsters, turtles, crabs and frogs, are increasingly joining our households. Once viewed as mere livestock, farm animals are finding a special place in our homes and hearts. A quick search on Instagram brings up pictures of piglets in princess costumes, leashed bearded dragons, or head-bobbing iguanas sipping coffee and enjoying rock music. They all seem well-loved and connect with their humans in unique ways. But do they conform to our definition of ‘pets’— a description mostly reserved for dogs, cats, and perhaps rabbits and a few birds?</p>.<p>The word pet, a reference to a companion animal, debuted in English only in the 16th century. While the word's origin is unknown, dictionaries define it as an animal ‘kept at home for pleasure rather than work or food’— or bluntly stating — ‘an indelible animal’. Back then, humans bred dogs and cats for looks that satiated the human eyes and behaviours that made them easy to manage at home. Pets were also a sign of privilege as they needed one to have more time and food at hand. Aristocrats swooned over them. European royals even used pets as accessories: their garments had custom pockets to carry small dogs. </p>.<p>Barring a few exceptions, dogs and cats mostly enjoyed humans' affection and fascination in the later centuries. Blamed for the maladies they bring, like tuberculosis or meningitis, humans pushed farm animals to the farther end of their ‘likeness’. Wild animals didn’t get a seat on the table until they were ‘tamed’ enough to be a means of entertainment (think circus). Rodents such as rats and gerbils, termed vermins, were repulsed. Iguanas and lizards were inconsequential. Laced with the thought that humans were superior to other animals, such thoughts fuelled the industrial exploitation of animals that followed. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Our relationship with animals has taken a new dimension in the last few decades. Animal activists are increasingly calling out human hypocrisy: why do we lovingly cuddle some animals while mercilessly butcher others? On the one side were arguments that dogs and cats — the most popular pets — were ‘more sentient’ than ‘dumb’ farm animals. They recognise their humans, wag their tails when they see us, understand our language and make our hearts sing. </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, as our knowledge of animal cognition expands, such arguments fall flat. We now know pigs can feel other pigs' pain, show empathy, and live as much a sentient life as our pets. Rats can laugh when tickled, have the power of imagination, and remember places they have visited. Snakes can learn just like us. Animals are more intelligent than we give them credit for. </p>.<p class="bodytext">So, is the booming exotic pet trade a sign that humans have begun to acknowledge animal intelligence and broaden the definition of who or what is a pet? I don’t know. But I know that wild animals (think snakes, monkeys, and turtles) should belong in the wild because our fascination for them as pets is driving wildlife trafficking across the globe and possibly bringing unknown pathogens home. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Tailspin</span> is your monthly column on everything that’s heartwarming and annoying about pet parenting.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The writer is a science communicator and mom to Pippi, a five-year-old Indie, who is behind her drive to understand dogs better. She posts on X @RamanSpoorthy</span></p>
<p>A few days ago, a friend recalled his bizarre encounter with his to-be-landlord’s pet. After the basement apartment he had viewed checked all the boxes, he was at the landlord’s place upstairs to sign a few documents and close the deal. While he sat on the sofa, his eyes scanned the living room. In the corner sat a topless glass box with coloured pebbles and plastic plants. The bright light inside caught his eyes, and he looked closer. A black slithering face emerged from behind the rocks, and within seconds, a patterned body glided along the side. His jaw dropped! It was a snake — a ball python. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he rushed out of that door in horror. “Who keeps snakes as pets in their houses?”, he wondered. Turns out, nearly a million Americans do! </p>.<p>Exotic animals, such as snakes, rats, ferrets, hamsters, turtles, crabs and frogs, are increasingly joining our households. Once viewed as mere livestock, farm animals are finding a special place in our homes and hearts. A quick search on Instagram brings up pictures of piglets in princess costumes, leashed bearded dragons, or head-bobbing iguanas sipping coffee and enjoying rock music. They all seem well-loved and connect with their humans in unique ways. But do they conform to our definition of ‘pets’— a description mostly reserved for dogs, cats, and perhaps rabbits and a few birds?</p>.<p>The word pet, a reference to a companion animal, debuted in English only in the 16th century. While the word's origin is unknown, dictionaries define it as an animal ‘kept at home for pleasure rather than work or food’— or bluntly stating — ‘an indelible animal’. Back then, humans bred dogs and cats for looks that satiated the human eyes and behaviours that made them easy to manage at home. Pets were also a sign of privilege as they needed one to have more time and food at hand. Aristocrats swooned over them. European royals even used pets as accessories: their garments had custom pockets to carry small dogs. </p>.<p>Barring a few exceptions, dogs and cats mostly enjoyed humans' affection and fascination in the later centuries. Blamed for the maladies they bring, like tuberculosis or meningitis, humans pushed farm animals to the farther end of their ‘likeness’. Wild animals didn’t get a seat on the table until they were ‘tamed’ enough to be a means of entertainment (think circus). Rodents such as rats and gerbils, termed vermins, were repulsed. Iguanas and lizards were inconsequential. Laced with the thought that humans were superior to other animals, such thoughts fuelled the industrial exploitation of animals that followed. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Our relationship with animals has taken a new dimension in the last few decades. Animal activists are increasingly calling out human hypocrisy: why do we lovingly cuddle some animals while mercilessly butcher others? On the one side were arguments that dogs and cats — the most popular pets — were ‘more sentient’ than ‘dumb’ farm animals. They recognise their humans, wag their tails when they see us, understand our language and make our hearts sing. </p>.<p class="bodytext">However, as our knowledge of animal cognition expands, such arguments fall flat. We now know pigs can feel other pigs' pain, show empathy, and live as much a sentient life as our pets. Rats can laugh when tickled, have the power of imagination, and remember places they have visited. Snakes can learn just like us. Animals are more intelligent than we give them credit for. </p>.<p class="bodytext">So, is the booming exotic pet trade a sign that humans have begun to acknowledge animal intelligence and broaden the definition of who or what is a pet? I don’t know. But I know that wild animals (think snakes, monkeys, and turtles) should belong in the wild because our fascination for them as pets is driving wildlife trafficking across the globe and possibly bringing unknown pathogens home. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="bold">Tailspin</span> is your monthly column on everything that’s heartwarming and annoying about pet parenting.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">The writer is a science communicator and mom to Pippi, a five-year-old Indie, who is behind her drive to understand dogs better. She posts on X @RamanSpoorthy</span></p>