I don't have pet peeves; I have whole kennels of irritation.

Hear the voice of Whoopi Goldberg, a woman of wit, candor, and fearless truth, who declared: “I don’t have pet peeves; I have whole kennels of irritation.” Though cloaked in humor, her words carry the thunder of lived experience. She does not speak of a single annoyance, a minor grievance easily brushed aside. No—she speaks of a multitude, a kennel, a collection so vast that it reveals the deep frustrations of one who has seen the follies, the injustices, and the absurdities of human life.

In this saying, Whoopi transforms the idea of the pet peeve into something far greater. A "pet" is small, perhaps even amusing, a private irritation to be spoken of lightly. But a kennel is not one creature—it is many, noisy and demanding, a chorus of grievances that cannot be ignored. This exaggeration, wrapped in humor, unveils a truth: those who look closely at the world, who are awake to its contradictions and its cruelties, will find no shortage of irritations. The more clearly one sees, the more kennels one discovers.

The ancients, too, knew this feeling. Did not the prophet Jeremiah cry out against the injustices of his people? Did not Socrates irritate the Athenians by pointing out every flaw in their reasoning, earning himself the title of “gadfly”? These men did not suffer from one small complaint; they carried within them whole kennels of irritation, for they saw clearly the brokenness of the world around them. And yet, like Whoopi, they wielded this irritation not as despair but as fuel for truth-telling.

Consider also the story of Diogenes the Cynic. He lived in defiance of social conventions, mocking the hypocrisy of Athens. When asked why he behaved so outrageously, he replied that he barked like a dog to awaken men from their slumber. His life was one long irritation with the falsehoods of society, yet from that irritation came wisdom that has lasted millennia. Whoopi, with her biting humor, walks in the same tradition—using her kennels of annoyance to expose, to provoke, and to awaken.

This quote is not simply about frustration. It is also about honesty. Many hide their irritations, pretending to be content while anger and annoyance fester within. Whoopi’s declaration is an act of courage, admitting openly that she is not untouched by the world’s foolishness. Her humor softens the blow, but beneath it lies strength: to acknowledge one’s frustrations is the first step in transforming them into art, laughter, or change.

The lesson here is profound: do not be ashamed of your irritations, but neither let them consume you. Instead, learn to wield them as Whoopi does—with humor, with candor, with perspective. Recognize that irritation can be a teacher, pointing you toward the things that need fixing within yourself or in the world. A single pet peeve may seem trivial, but a kennel of them can reveal patterns of injustice, hypocrisy, or imbalance that call for courage and correction.

Practically, this means cultivating awareness and transformation. When you feel irritation rise, do not simply dismiss it. Ask yourself: what truth is this feeling pointing toward? Can it be reshaped into action, into advocacy, into laughter that awakens others? Write it, speak it, share it, but above all, do not allow it to rot inside you. Let your kennels of irritation become, as in Whoopi’s life, a source of wisdom, of artistry, of fearless voice.

So let her words endure: “I don’t have pet peeves; I have whole kennels of irritation.” They remind us that the sensitive heart, the observant mind, cannot help but see the flaws of the world. But rather than hide them or be crushed by them, we are called to speak them, to transform them, and to use them as stepping stones toward laughter, truth, and change. For even the barking of many dogs may one day awaken a sleeping world.