Growing up in a brownstone on the Upper West Side meant we had a lot more room to keep pets than the average New Yorker, and in my family, that meant a lot more pets. At one point, our menagerie included a squirrel monkey, 18 mice, two dogs and one cat, a parakeet, a toad, a skunk, a couple of snakes, and an ever-exploding population of guinea pigs.

I considered myself an ardent animal lover, but the passion dimmed with puberty and has never been reignited. But there are plenty of other New Yorkers who continue to find unbridled joy through their bond with their fellow creatures.