Emotional Support Animals

 ESAs [Emotional Support Animals] first came to mainstream attention around 2015 following some high-profile examples on US college campuses. The idea is that the presence and companionship of a pet can help to alleviate the symptoms or effects of someone's disability or mental health condition, and help them to succeed at school. But what started out rooted in reality, as a compassionate accommodation extended in specific circumstances to a few, is increasingly being taken advantage of. It is hard to believe that anyone would attempt to argue that they can't function without their emotional support squirrel. Or peacock. Or turkey. And yet all those cases have been made, presumably with a straight face.

Beauty and the Beast
Charles Burton Barber (1845-1894)
Photo Credit: Reading Museum [CC BY-NC] 

Last week, 71 year-old Karl Mitchell from Nevada, who had been keeping seven tigers at his home without a permit, argued that they were there on doctor's orders, to help with his post-traumatic stress disorder. In these post-truth times, it seems, one person's emotional support animal may be another's apex predator. Of course, dogs and cats are not the only legitimate pets, and I am more enthusiastic than most about species that are scaly, slimy or scary. But even if we are to take these cases in good faith, it's not callous to say that one person's coping mechanism can't be allowed to take precedence over the experiences of everyone else.

Take Wally, the emotional support alligator, who became briefly famous a few years ago. His owner said caring for Wally helped him with his depression, and I believe him. Equally I can see that, for other people, encountering the 5.5ft-long reptile at, say, a baseball game might induce anxiety - despite Wally's owner's assurance that he "doesn't bite"...

The rise of ESAs has been taken up in the culture wars as evidence that some feeble-minded "babies" are unable to cope with reality. A more compassionate view is that, clearly, people feel in need of support, but leaning on our pets isn't the answer. That we'd even think to argue otherwise illustrates the heavy burden we expect animals to carry - the roles we expect them to play for us  without, necessarily, equivalent regard for their wellbeing. Consider the animals that are claimed to alleviate flying anxiety, for example. Long0haul flights are uncomfortable enough for us - imagine if you had no idea why you were doing it or indeed what a plane was. Tywinn, the nine-year-old miniature schnauzer, certainly didn't know what was in store.

Late last year, his owner, Alison Lawrence, tried to board a flight with him from Florida to Bogota, Colombia. When she was found to not have the correct paperwork, Lawrence allegedly took Tywinn to the airport bathroom and drowned him. She caught her flight; his body was later discovered in the bin.

The story of Wally the alligator also seems to have ended unhappily, with his disappearance or perhaps abduction. He never bit, his owner said - but maybe he should have. We may benefit from animals' support and even feel entitled to it. But can they count on ours?

(Elle Hunt, The Guardian, 2025)

It is hard to believe that anyone would attempt to argue that they can't function without their emotional support squirrel. Or peacock. Or turkey. And yet all those cases have been made, presumably with a straight face. Straight face? Do you really think so?

Wally, the alligator  might not bite but he may well swallow you whole. No. What needs to be done is to create a new pet. One that would give emotional support and not offend at the same time. How about a fairy or a guardian angel?

The Fairy
Lucien Pissarro (1863-1944)
Picture Credit: Ashmolean Museum Oxford [CC BY-NC-ND]