I have a pet lizard named Puff, five goldfish - named Pinky

Hear, O listener, the curious yet profound words of Chris Pratt, who once declared: “I have a pet lizard named Puff, five goldfish—named Pinky, Brain, Jowels, Pearl and Sandy—an oscar fish named Chef, two pacus, an albino African frog named Whitey, a bonsai tree, four Venus flytraps, a fruit fly farm, and sea monkeys.” Though at first these words may sound playful, almost like the whimsical inventory of a child’s imagination, they contain within them a deeper message: the love of life in its many forms, and the recognition that wonder is not found in grand things alone, but also in the small, the strange, and the overlooked.

For each creature and plant he names—lizard, goldfish, frog, tree, fly, even the humble sea monkey—is a reminder that the world is filled with life of every size and kind. Some men, seeking only wealth or glory, forget to marvel at these living miracles. Yet Pratt, in his humor, shows that he treasures them. In this way, he echoes an ancient truth: that the wise man is not he who owns the largest palace, but he who delights in the smallest wonders. To hold a bonsai tree and see a forest within it is to possess a vision that kings may envy.

The ancients often honored the humble as sacred. The Egyptians revered the scarab beetle, seeing in it the cycle of rebirth. The Japanese tended bonsai not for wealth, but as acts of patience and meditation. In the temples of India, even the cow, ant, and monkey were respected as vessels of divinity. Pratt’s playful list, though modern in its expression, belongs to this lineage of reverence. For in naming each being, he grants them dignity, declaring that they matter, that their lives are worth noticing.

History too gives us examples of great men and their quiet love of small life. Saint Francis of Assisi, though called to preach to nations, spoke tenderly to the birds and soothed the frightened rabbit. Charles Darwin, though remembered for his great theory, spent countless hours observing the tiniest of worms and barnacles, understanding that even the least creature reveals the mysteries of creation. So too, Pratt’s joy in frogs, fish, and flies reveals not foolishness, but wisdom—the recognition that to love creation in its smallest detail is to draw closer to the heart of existence.

What, then, is the meaning behind his words? It is that joy and wonder do not lie only in extraordinary events, but in the daily presence of life around us. The lizard resting on a branch, the Venus flytrap closing upon its prey, the goldfish flashing through water, even the strange wriggling of sea monkeys—all of these invite us to pause, to smile, and to marvel. They remind us to be children again, to see the world not as dull routine but as an endless carnival of living miracles.

O listener, take this lesson to heart: cultivate within yourself the habit of wonder. Do not pass by the small things in haste. Care for the creatures entrusted to you, whether they be many or few, great or humble. For in loving them, you awaken a deeper love for all creation, and in naming them—as Pratt does—you honor their place in the great tapestry of life.

Practical wisdom follows: keep a plant, tend a pet, observe the lives of even the smallest beings around you. See in them not trivial distractions, but teachers of patience, resilience, and joy. The world does not lack marvels—it only lacks eyes trained to see them.

Thus I say to you: heed the playful yet profound inventory of Chris Pratt. For in his lizard, his fish, his frog, his bonsai, and his flies, lies the eternal teaching: that to love life in all its forms, great and small, is to walk the path of wonder, gratitude, and wisdom.