Having a pet spayed or neutered actually extends its lifespan by

In the words of Suzy Shuster: “Having a pet spayed or neutered actually extends its lifespan by a few years and reduces any aggressive traits or tendencies.” This is no idle statement, no passing remark about the keeping of animals. It is a reminder of the bond between humankind and the creatures entrusted to their care. For to spay or neuter is not merely an act of control—it is an act of compassion, one that seeks to preserve life, to prevent suffering, and to guide the animals we cherish into a gentler and longer existence.

The ancients, too, revered their animals. Horses were companions of warriors, dogs the loyal guardians of homes, cats the mysterious protectors of granaries. Yet even then, wise men and women understood that the care of an animal was a reflection of the care of the soul. To provide food was good, to give shelter was noble, but to safeguard health was the highest form of stewardship. In Shuster’s words, we hear the continuation of this ancient covenant: those who love their animals must act not only for the present, but for the fullness of their lives.

To say that such care extends lifespan is to proclaim a truth rooted in both science and wisdom. The beast, freed from the burdens of constant breeding and the dangers of unchecked instincts, lives longer, calmer, and healthier. This is no different from the way discipline lengthens the life of humankind. The soldier who trains his body with moderation endures, while the glutton who gives in to every impulse burns out quickly. Just as discipline saves the human spirit, so too does this gentle intervention preserve the life of the animal.

And when Shuster tells us that spaying or neutering reduces aggression, she speaks also of harmony. For aggression, left unchecked, leads to violence, wandering, and ruin. Many a village has been disturbed by packs of wild dogs, or farms destroyed by the unchecked growth of animals. By tempering this fire before it consumes, one creates peace not only within the creature, but within the household, the neighborhood, and the land. It is the same principle that guided the ancients in tempering their societies: laws were written, oaths sworn, and customs upheld to channel the raw instincts of men into order and peace.

Consider the tale of King Ashoka of India, who after years of conquest turned to compassion. He forbade needless slaughter, encouraged kindness to animals, and declared that the measure of a people’s greatness was how they treated those without voice or power. His empire flourished not only by the sword but by the heart. So too does Shuster remind us that the greatness of our homes, our towns, and our generations will be judged not by wealth or conquest, but by how we guard the weakest in our care.

The lesson is this: to keep an animal is to make a vow. It is not a possession, but a guardianship. To spay or neuter is not cruelty, but foresight—choosing health over suffering, longevity over decay, harmony over conflict. It is an act that looks beyond the moment, beyond our own comfort, and into the life of the companion who trusts us without question. This is what separates negligence from stewardship, selfishness from love.

In practice, let each who has a pet take these words to heart. Do not delay in providing this care. Speak to those who do not understand, teach them that it is not punishment but mercy. Support the shelters that rescue animals from neglect, for they fight not only for survival but for dignity. And when you look into the eyes of your companion, remember: their life rests in your hands. To extend it, to soften it, to guide it into peace is not only their blessing—it is your duty.

Thus, let Shuster’s words endure as a teaching: true love is measured by the courage to make choices that protect life. To act with compassion is to walk in harmony with the eternal law that binds all creatures. For when we safeguard the lives of those who depend on us, we also safeguard the noblest part of ourselves.