The veterinarian's office is not crowded. There's a woman with a corgi, another woman with a crated cat, and me and my little dog, Willie.

The corgi is wearing a green print neckerchief — very fashionable. Willie leans against my left leg, staring at the crate. His inability to see the cat makes no difference. He lets out a low, throaty growl. Translation: "Must kill cat."

Squirrels are also anathema to Willie. Drivers for FedEx, UPS and USPS are on his list, as well. That is, I think it's the drivers that upset him. Maybe it's syllabic abbreviations and acronyms.

In July 2006, Willie was diagnosed with Addison's disease. His adrenal glands do not produce enough hormones and other chemicals to regulate his bodily functions, including metabolism, blood pressure and stress response. Addison's is not curable, but it is treatable.

Every 25 days, Willie is due at the vet for an injection. Translation: In the past two years, my dog and I have spent a goodly amount of time in waiting rooms watching people interact with their pets.

We've learned that some people should not be allowed to have animals. They don't carry out their part of the bargain. And it's always the animal that suffers.

Mostly what we have witnessed is the spiritual connection between man and animal — a coming together of souls in a place where there are no words. It's a joy to behold.

The vet tech comes out, greets Willie and takes his leash. The little dog wants no part of this. He pulls toward me and looks at me with fear in his eyes — Addison's disease affects his stress response.

I tell him it's OK. I tell him to be a good dog. I promise to wait for him. The little fellow does not look where he is going. His eyes stay focused on me until there is no sight line, until he is behind a closed door.

In my time, I have known fish, turtles, a parakeet, a guinea pig and a handful of dogs as pets. I consider myself a "dog person." However, if it weren't for allergies, a cat or two might have made it to my sequential zoo.

Animals give pleasure. They teach us about responsibility, empathy, patience, unconditional love, loyalty and the importance of a simple life. They are good for our emotional and physical health.

Animals open a window to another world, another way of being. They are capable of thinking and feeling. They gather information about their surroundings and act accordingly.

Anyone who does not believe this has not been paying attention. It's documented everywhere from YouTube (neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp and his study of rat laughter) to National Geographic Magazine ("Inside Animal Minds," March 2008). Translation: When the human race is found lacking, look to the animals.

The door opens and Willie bursts into the waiting room. He heads to where he last saw me, the place I promised I would be. The vet tech follows close behind. She is the calmer of the two.

Willie spins and leaps and smiles as we head to the car. "It's be kind to animals week," I tell him. "Let's go get us a treat."