Every animal has his or her story, his or her thoughts

Hear the words of Ingrid Newkirk, a voice who has lifted the cause of the voiceless: “Every animal has his or her story, his or her thoughts, daydreams, and interests. All feel joy and love, pain and fear, as we now know beyond any shadow of a doubt. All deserve that the human animal afford them the respect of being cared for with great consideration for those interests or left in peace.” These words carry the gravity of a revelation, for they summon us to see what was once denied: that the creatures of earth are not objects, not mere resources, but fellow travelers in the great mystery of life.

The ancients glimpsed this truth. The Egyptians honored cats and dogs as sacred companions. The Hindus spoke of cows as mothers, the Greeks imagined gods taking the form of beasts, and the early Christians saw the dove as a sign of the Spirit. In all ages, the wise knew that animals bore more than flesh and instinct—they carried within them sparks of thought, longing, and even spirit. Yet too often humanity hardened its heart, treating them as tools, as property, as shadows without inner light. Newkirk’s words demand we unlearn this blindness and restore respect where it has long been denied.

Consider the story of Hachikō, the faithful dog of Japan. Each day he waited at the train station for his master, even long after the man’s death. For nine years the dog returned, steadfast in loyalty, his heart bound by love and memory. His story is no fantasy, no invention—it is a testament that animals know devotion, that they feel as deeply as we do. To deny this is to deny the evidence of both history and heart. To accept it is to recognize that every creature has a story, unseen yet real, deserving of compassion.

Science, too, now confirms what the ancients intuited. Elephants grieve their dead, returning to the bones of fallen kin. Dolphins play and dream, calling each other by unique names. Birds weave intricate songs not only to survive but to express. These discoveries echo Newkirk’s declaration: joy and pain, fear and love are not the domain of humans alone. They are the shared inheritance of all living beings. Thus the call to consideration is not sentiment—it is justice.

The meaning of her words is also a mirror to the human soul. For how we treat the least among creation reveals who we truly are. The human animal, though crowned with reason, bears also the burden of choice. Will we use our power to dominate, exploit, and destroy? Or will we use it to nurture, protect, and honor? The answer shapes not only the fate of the creatures but the destiny of humanity itself. For cruelty to beasts sows cruelty in the human heart, while compassion toward them nourishes compassion toward one another.

The lesson for us is clear and solemn. We must see animals not as ornaments, not as products, not as shadows of our desires, but as fellow beings with lives of their own. To cage them needlessly, to kill them thoughtlessly, to exploit them ruthlessly is to betray our own humanity. Instead, we must walk with respect—feeding the hungry, sheltering the weak, preserving their places in the forests and seas, or leaving them in peace. To do so is to align ourselves with the greater harmony of life.

What then shall we do? Begin in small but steady ways. Choose kindness over cruelty in the food we eat, in the clothes we wear, in the entertainment we seek. Protect the wild places where creatures dwell. Teach children that the bird in the sky, the fish in the water, the dog at their side all live with joy and fear, with dreams and with dignity. Let us create a world where the human animal is not tyrant but guardian, not exploiter but companion.

Therefore, O listener, carry this truth deep within: Every animal has a story, every creature feels, every being deserves respect. Let your life bear witness to this truth, through compassion, through protection, through reverence. For when humanity learns to honor the smallest of lives, it will at last discover the greatness of its own.