Only primates have true finger- and toenails. We and our cousins have several uses for nails.

Fingernails are for protecting not only the fingertips but also the surrounding soft tissue from any external injuries.

Nails help enhance the sensitivity of fingertips by acting as a counterforce when pressed against something, improving the sense of touch.

Fingernails are much involved in fine motor skills.

Nail Facts

But for human primates, nails can be so much more!

Damaged or discolored nails can affect confidence and self-image in social or professional settings.

Certain cultures, social classes, or professions (e.g., models, musicians, corporate jobs) may expect well-manicured hands.

The global nail care industry is valued at about $26–27 billion in 2026, with the US market around $5.3 billion (roughly 79% of North America).

People typically spend about $20–$55 for a basic manicure and $25–$65 for a gel or standard full set, with premium services like acrylics, dips, or designs ranging from $25–$120+—overall, many nail services fall within roughly $15–$100+ depending on service, location, and add-ons.

In ancient Egypt, a person’s nail color indicated their social status. Noblemen wore black, and common men wore green. The highest rank, a noble lady, was symbolized by red fingernails. No wonder red manicures are so iconic!

Nail polish originated in China as early as 3000 BC. The ingredients? Egg whites, gelatin, vegetable dyes and beeswax.

Painting designs and pictures onto our fingernails isn’t something new and trendy. It was a familiar practice with the Incas, many of whom had eagle designs on their fingernails.

Miscellaneous Tidbits Inquiring Minds Want to Know

Just like hair, nails are composed of a protein called keratin, which is also found in animal hooves and horns. And this explains why specialized supplements are so often—usually—labeled as for hair and nail strengthening. Keratin is a protein made of dead cells, which is why cutting your fingernails and hair doesn’t hurt.

Typing with your fingernails will actually stimulate their growth.

Just like fingerprints, the pattern of ridges and grooves on your nails is unique to you.

Nails can’t “breathe” or sweat. Along with lips and ears, they are the only parts of the body that don’t sweat. (For more on sweat, see my blog).

While nails themselves don’t breathe like skin, the nail bed (the skin underneath the nail) does receive oxygen and nutrients through blood vessels. Medical providers can use the appearance of these blood vessels to assess dehydration and blood flow.

Our fingernails have no feeling. Zero. Zilch. Nor do our toenails.

Nails on a chalkboard make you cringe? There’s a reason for that. The noise hits a frequency that’s naturally amplified by the shape of our ear canals.

Our cuticles aren’t just for decoration. They serve a purpose! The cuticle seals moisture and environmental germs out of the body. This is why it’s important not to pick at your cuticles.

Are you a nail biter? There’s a name for that. Nail biting is known as Onychophagia. And stop it!

Feeling stressed out? It can show in your fingernails. Stress can cause your fingernails to weaken as nutrients are spread elsewhere in the body.

Fingernails need blood to survive. Have you ever wondered why your fingernail falls off after an injury? Our nail plates need blood flow, nutrients and oxygen to grow normally.  An injury can disrupt the delicate connections that provide the nutrition and can stop your fingernail from growing.

Record Nails

According to the  Guinness World Records , the longest fingernails on a pair of human hands belong to Diana Armstrong (USA), with a total length of 42 ft 10.5 in.

The longest fingernails ever recorded on a single hand belonged to Shridhar Chillal from India, whose nails on his left hand totaled 9.1 meters (30 feet) after he stopped cutting them for 66 years!

Growth

• The nails on your writing hand grow up to 25% faster than those on your non-dominant hand due to increased blood flow and usage. And I didn’t know to include this in my blog on body asymmetry!
• Fingernails grow about three times faster than toenails. On average, fingernails grow about 3 millimeters per month, while toenails grow about 1 millimeter per month.

• Cutting nails doesn’t affect their growth. They grow from the base, so cutting or filing them doesn’t change how fast they grow.
• Some studies suggest that nails grow slightly faster in warmer months, possibly due to increased blood circulation.
• Men’s fingernails grow faster than women’s.
• But, women’s fingernails do grow faster during pregnancy due to hormones.
• Your thumbnail grows the slowest.
• Your middle fingernail grows faster than your other fingers.
• Fingernail growth slows down as we age.
• Contrary to the popular “Moon Myth,” nails and hair do not continue to grow after death. The appearance of growth is due to the skin receding as the body dehydrates.

If you are just an info junky, ready for trivial pursuit type questions, consider stopping here. If you want to get more into the science and health issues, keep reading!

Healthy (and Unhealthy) Nails

Given how much we are willing to invest in nails (see above), what are the DYI options? For example, for weak or brittle nails?

Brittle nails can result from:

Nutritional deficiencies (e.g., lack of biotin, iron, zinc, or vitamins A, C, and E)

Excessive moisture exposure (e.g., frequent hand washing, dishwashing, or swimming)

Chemical damage (e.g., from nail polish removers, detergents, or harsh cleaning products)

Medical conditions (e.g., thyroid disorders, fungal infections, or psoriasis)

Aging (nails naturally become more brittle with age)

Trauma or repetitive stress (e.g., typing, manicures, or nail biting)

You Might Consider Improving Your Diet

Biotin (Vitamin B7): Supports keratin production. Found in eggs, nuts, seeds, and sweet potatoes. Studies suggest 2.5–5 mg/day can improve nail thickness.

Iron: Essential for nail health. Include spinach, lentils, red meat, and fortified cereals. Low iron can lead to spoon-shaped or brittle nails.

Zinc: Supports nail growth. Found in oysters, pumpkin seeds, and whole grains.

Protein: Nails are made of keratin, a protein. Include lean meats, beans, and dairy.

Vitamin E: Acts as an antioxidant. Found in almonds, avocados, and sunflower seeds.

Omega-3 Fatty Acids: Help reduce inflammation. Found in fatty fish (salmon, mackerel) and flaxseeds.

Hydrate and Protect

Moisturize regularly. Apply jojoba oil, coconut oil, or shea butter to nails and cuticles daily. Look for products with urea or lactic acid to lock in moisture.

Protect your hands from water, detergents, and chemicals by wearing gloves during chores (dishes, cleaning, gardening).

Long baths, swimming, or soaking can weaken nails. Limit excessive water exposure and moisturize afterward.

Increasing your water intake can improve dry fingernails.

All-Purpose Gentle Nail Care

Trim nails regularly. Keep them short to prevent breakage. File them in one direction (not sawing back and forth) to avoid splits.

Use a nail strengthener. Look for products containing keratin, calcium, or hydrolyzed wheat protein. Avoid those with formaldehyde or toluene, which can dry out nails.

Limit nail polish and acrylics. Give your nails breaks between manicures. Acrylics and gels can cause thinning and peeling.

Avoid nail biting. Use bitter-tasting nail polish or keep nails trimmed short to break the habit.

Choose acetone-free polish removers. Acetone dries out nails. Opt for soy-based or oil-based removers.

Skip cuticle cutting. Cuticles protect the nail bed from infection. Push them back gently with a wooden stick after softening with oil.

Avoid antibacterial or deodorant soaps, which can strip natural oils. Use fragrance-free, moisturizing soaps.

Soak nails in warm olive oil or a mixture of apple cider vinegar and water (1:1 ratio) for 10 minutes, 2–3 times a week.

Mix avocado oil with a few drops of lemon juice, apply to nails, and leave for 15 minutes before rinsing.

Use paraffin wax treatments at home or spas to deeply moisturize nails and cuticles.

If Home Remedies Don’t Work

Supplements: Talk to a doctor about biotin, collagen, or iron supplements if you suspect a deficiency.

Prescription treatments: For fungal infections, a doctor may prescribe antifungal creams or oral medications.

Nail hardeners: Some contain formaldehyde (e.g., nail hardeners like Duri Rejuvacote), but use them sparingly as they can cause brittleness over time.

Dermatologist consultation: If nails are discolored, peeling, or painful, rule out underlying conditions like psoriasis, thyroid issues, or fungal infections.

When to Consult a Healthcare Provider

Nails can be indicative of overall health, including signaling underlying problems. If you notice these conditions, you might want to have a professional check them out:

• Nails are discolored, thickened, or crumbly (possible fungal infection)
• There’s pain, swelling, or pus around the nail (sign of infection)
• Nails are spoon-shaped or have ridges (could indicate anemia or thyroid issues)
• Home treatments don’t improve brittleness after 4–6 weeks

Infections

Fungal infections (onychomycosis) can cause thick, discolored, or brittle nails.

Bacterial infections (e.g., paronychia) can lead to redness, swelling, and pain around the nail bed.

Ingrown nails (especially toenails) can cause pain, swelling, and infection if not treated.

Systemic Conditions

Psoriasis can cause pitted, discolored, or crumbly nails.

Diabetes can lead to poor circulation, increasing the risk of nail infections and slow healing.

Trauma to the nail (e.g., crushing or cutting) can cause bruising, detachment, or permanent damage.

Poor Nail Hygiene:

• When dirt and bacteria accumulate under nails, it often leads to infections or spreading germs (e.g., during cooking or handshakes).
• Long or unkempt nails can harbor more bacteria and viruses, increasing the risk of illness.
• Overgrown or dirty nails are likely perceived as unhygienic in professional or social settings.
• Some workplaces (e.g., healthcare, food service) have strict grooming standards that require short, clean nails.

Interference with Daily Tasks:

• Long or broken nails can tear or snag on fabrics, keyboards, or touchscreens–and those are only examples!
• They may make it difficult to perform tasks that require fine motor skills (e.g., typing, sewing, or handling small objects).

Discomfort or Pain:

• Pressing too hard on a keyboard or touching sensitive skin can cause discomfort.
• Nails that are too long or improperly shaped may press into the skin, causing irritation.

Workplace Hazards:

• Long nails can pose risks in manual labor jobs (e.g., getting caught in machinery or tools).
• They may not be allowed in certain industries (e.g., healthcare, laboratories) due to contamination risks.

Allergies:

• Some people develop allergic reactions to nail products (e.g., acrylic nails, polish, or adhesives), leading to redness, itching, or swelling.

Bottom Line: There’s more to nails than a casual glance at hands or feet might reveal.

The Wall Street Journal (8/18/26) carried an article about Bank of America’s CEO Brian Moynihan making a point of including old, unfamiliar, or archaic words in his speeches and written communications. The article cited specific words: Gainsay, Concomitant, Fantods, Ludically, Perspicuous, Fructify, Anfractuous, Intractable, Infructuous, Spurious, Apocryphal, Sinuous, Sanative, Salubrious, Salutiferous, Rejuvenescent, Jejune, Pedantic, Pedestrian, Operose, Axiomatic, Redound.

Why does he do it? To keep people’s attention? To make them think about what he’s really saying? His motivation is unknown. But if you are inclined to pursue such a hobby, there are whole dictionaries of such words out there.

An Old Word

But for pure entertainment, I recommend Weird and Wonderful Words. Words appear alphabetically, as one would expect in a dictionary. A couple of things set this word book apart.

For one thing, Roz Chast, whose cartoons frequently appear in The New Yorker, illustrated many of the best entries. In addition, I enjoy the “extended coverage” that accompanies some words. For example, octothorpe is the # keypad symbol on touch-tone phones; also called pound, number sign, hash, or crosshatch. The nine-line entry tells when and how the symbol got its name, and how it relates to Olympian Jim Thorpe.

A New Word

Of course, some people are more concerned with the newest “in” words rather than the oldest or weirdest. Rizz, freestyle, girl dinner, bed rotting, climate breakdown, and global boiling are among the newest entries to dictionaries. Without further ado, here are some of the newest words major English dictionaries have included as of mid-2026.

Floordrobe (noun) clothes piled on the floor instead of being put away

Humblebrag (noun) a seemingly modest or self-deprecating statement whose actual purpose is to draw attention to something of which one is proud

Life Hack (phrase) a simple or clever tip or technique for accomplishing or managing a familiar task more easily and efficiently

Long Game (phrase) strategic planning or consideration of a situation over a long period

AI Slop (phrase) digital content of low quality that is produced usually in quantity by means of artificial intelligence

Tasteslop (noun) content (such as food or media) that is excessively indulgent, overly sweet, or poorly balanced in a way that feels unappealing
OR the flattening of trends in fashion, art, design, etc. for the purposes of generating easily digestible social media content

Vibe Hacking (phrase) the practice of manipulating or optimizing one’s environment, mood, or social interactions to achieve a desired emotional or energetic state
OR using artificial intelligence agents and tools to plan and execute cyberattacks by automating key stages of the attack (the counterpart to vibe coding)

Dead Internet Theory (phrase) the suspicion that most online activity is generated by bots and algorithms rather than real people

Screenless Technology (phrase) technology that operates without a traditional screen interface, such as voice-controlled or gestured-based devices

Barefoot Shoe (phrase) a minimalist shoe designed to mimic the experience of walking barefoot, promoting natural foot movement

Wardrobing (verb) the practice of returning used clothing after trying it on in a store, effectively shoplifting by using the item and then returning it

Script Kiddie (phrase) a person who uses existing computer scripts or code to hack into computers, lacking the expertise to write their own

Dubai Chocolate (phrase) a luxurious or ultra-premium variety of chocolate, often associated with high-end or exotic branding

Where Do New Words Come From?

Dictionary editors add new words through a systemic process that involves research, analysis, and consensus-building among linguists, lexicographers, and language experts.

New words, also called neologisms, emerge from various sources:

Technology: Words like selfie, hashtag, AI, and blockchain entered the lexicon due to technological advancements. Electric traction cars in 1883 gave us the first use of the word automobile.

Culture and Society: Words like woke, cancel culture, or climate anxiety reflect societal changes. In the 15th century, mistrust of left-handed people gave us the word sinister. Similarly, 14th century women able to support themselves through spinning and weaving gave us the word spinster.

Science and Medicine: As science and technology advance, terms like COVID-19, mRNA, and CRISPR enter common usage. In 1798, Edward Jenner published his research into variolae vaccinae (cow pustules), which gave us the word vaccine.

Pop Culture: Words from movies, TV shows, or music, such as bling (popularized by hip-hop culture) or spoiler (from fandom communities). Hooligan was the name of a raucous Irish family (Houlihan) popularized in a song from the 1890s.

Borrowings: Words borrowed from other languages like sushi (Japanese), kindergarten (German), or rendezvous (French). One of my favorites, chocolate, comes to us from Nahuatl.

Slang and Informal Language: Words like lit, ghosting, or yeet often start in informal contexts before gaining wider acceptance. In the 19th Century, when everything Norse was fashionable in England, the Old Norse word berserk (originally a compound of bear and shirt) became a slang term for out of control with anger.

Not every word makes it into a dictionary. Why some and not others is still a mystery to me. For example, whopper-jawed is recognized by the OED but not by Webster’s, and skiwappidy isn’t recognized any place I found (including the spell-checking program on the computer as I type).

Dictionary Updates

As Gregory Barlow, President of Merriam-Webster explains, “The one constant of a vibrant living language is change. We continuously encounter new ways of describing the world around us, and the dictionary is a record of those changes.” If a word is approved, it is added to the dictionary in its next update. Dictionaries are updated regularly, though the frequency depends on the format.

Print Dictionaries: updated every few years (e.g., Merriam-Webster updates annually).

Online Dictionaries: updated more frequently (e.g., Oxford English Dictionary adds new words quarterly).

Here are some words major dictionaries have added in recent years:

Merriam-Webster:

• Deepfake (2023)
• Rizz (short for “charisma,” 2023)
• Authentic (as an adjective describing “genuine” or “trustworthy,” 2023)

Oxford English Dictionary:

• Vax (short for “vaccine,” 2021)
• Moist (as slang for something exciting, 2021)
• Post-truth (2016)

Collins Dictionary:

• Climate strike (2019)
• Double down (2019)

Some dictionaries, like Urban Dictionary, focus on slang and informal language, which may not meet the criteria for traditional dictionaries. Technical terms like CRISPR or quantum computing are added to specialized dictionaries first. Words like y’all (Southern U.S., second person pronoun) or chuddies (British slang for underwear) appear in regional dictionaries.

Social media and the internet accelerate the creation of new words, making it hard for dictionaries to keep up.

One’s acceptance of – or resistance to – new words, I believe, relates to age. I read somewhere, sometime, that what is considered correct depends on what was taught during one’s last year of formal education. My mystery co-author, seventeen years my senior, thought using till instead of until an abomination, ditto the word prioritize. Personally, I deplore the current acceptance of data as singular; the correct singular is datum. “The data is…” makes me cringe. Ditto criteria vs. criterion.

Bottom Line: Language changes, and people must go with the flow, like it or not.

Language changes; words come and go. Should you hold on to each archaic word as it slips from usage? Or grab every fresh slang term as it flits across society?

Note: The blog I recently wrote about entomophagy reminded me of this short story I wrote in 2011. “Staying Alive” was originally published without illustrations in The Alembic, 2011 and in studio one, Vol. 34, 20ll.

by
Vivian Lawry

It started with Simon’s conviction that the world’s population growth was far out-pacing the food supply. In spite of the growing popularity of minicattle—only half as big as standard cattle, eating only a third as much, and producing proportionately more beef for the grain they consume—Simon concluded that eating animal protein is an inefficient use of resources and became a vegan. For months he harangued family and friends, and wrote letters to the editor of the local paper, citing statistics on how much grain is consumed to produce a pound of beef and the nutritional value of that pound of beef compared to the nutritional value of the grain if consumed directly by humans.

His wife Millicent, also a research statistician and usually sanguine, had weathered Simon’s past rants on everything from regreening the Sahara to mandating solar heat in all new buildings. But one morning, her patience snapped. She slapped two plates of bacon and eggs onto the table. “You might as well eat it. Your vegan campaign is doomed from the get-go.” Simon glared at her but she talked on. “The global bread basket isn’t big enough to feed everyone on plants alone. Only about one tenth of the land not under ice is suitable for cultivation and nearly all of that is already under plow.” She forked eggs and bacon into her mouth and talked around them.

“Besides, nearly sixty percent of the world’s meat comes from grazing, foraging, and free-range feeding. Why give that up? Instead, we should use more of what’s already available—hearts and livers, brains and feet, kidneys and tongues.”

Simon pushed his plate aside but made no answer. Over the next several days, he verified her data and scrutinized her logic and could find no fault. He settled onto the sofa with his gloom and watched TV, barely stirring for days on end. When the papers carried reports of international rice shortages and wholesale food suppliers across the nation limited customers to four twenty-pound bags of rice per visit, anxiety lay in Simon’s stomach like a stone. One day he said, “You’re right, Millie. But you didn’t go far enough. Cattle, hogs, sheep, chickens—why limit ourselves to them? What about rabbits and squirrels? Feral dogs and cats? Voles, rats—anything?”

Millie said, “That’s very rational. There’s a Swahili saying—kila nyama nyama tu—every meat is meat. People in China and Vietnam and India have eaten rats and snakes for centuries. I’ll get recipes.”

As they shifted their menus from beef steak and chicken breasts to dog ham, raccoon barbecue, and grilled rats Bordeaux style, Simon’s gloom lifted. When his children came home from school crying because their friends said smoked eel sandwiches were gross, Simon and Millie switched to the foreign names for their food—told them they were having escargot instead of snails, for example, hasenpfeffer instead of pepper rabbit for dinner—and household peace returned.

This idyllic interval came to an end when Simon read that the real threat of global warming wasn’t rising temperatures per se, or even rising water tables, but that vast expanses of currently arable land would become desert. Desert wouldn’t support even free-range grazers. In addition, warmer climates and more frequent warming cycles would increase insect populations, which would compete with humans for plant food. This time, Simon’s depression was so severe that he was hospitalized for three months. His indigo mood lightened only when the solution came to him: people should eat more insects.

Simon checked himself out, and a week later he handed Millie a sheaf of recipes for Rocky Mountain Locust Stew, Woodlouse Sushi, Green Salad with Toasted Beetles, and similar international delicacies. He said, “Global warming is still in its infancy, but this planet already has seventy pounds of insects for every pound of human flesh. Think about that. Besides, we eat crabs and lobsters and other bottom feeders. Why not nice vegan insects? Just think of them as microlivestock.”

Millie sat silent for a long time. Eventually she smiled. “Kila nyama nyama tu.”

Together they attended workshops with titles like Incredible Edible Insects and came away armed with statistics on the protein, fat, and mineral value of termites, caterpillars, and weevils compared to beef or fish. They picked up valuable tips about everything from covering the colander with wire mesh when washing crickets to putting cleaned insects in the freezer for fifteen minutes or so to kill but not freeze them before cooking. For her birthday, Simon gave Millie The Eat-a-Bug Cookbook. Soon she was making insect flour and adapting standard recipes to include insects. They bought less from supermarkets and more from pet stores, bait shops, and insect suppliers. Simon and Millie wore matching T-shirts that said Proud to be Entomophagous, and informed anyone who inquired that eighty percent of the world’s population eats insects intentionally.

Predictably, the children rebelled, even though Simon pointed out that honey is just a form of bug juice. Annie said, “Look, I stuck it out through tripe and guinea pig in that spicy Peruvian sauce, even creamed snails. But I draw the line at white ant pie.” Junior agreed.

Simon said, “This isn’t a negotiation. Hit the floor and give me push-ups. Keep at it till you decide to eat your dinner or you collapse, whichever comes first.” In bed with Millie, he said, “I feel bad about the push-ups. But we’re talking survival here. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save my children.”

After that, the children’s surrender was complete. Though they never talked about it with their friends, cockroach samosas were a big hit, as were Ant Brood Tacos and Chocolate Chirpie Chip Cookies.

When Simon learned that cockroaches are one of the most populous insects, he read all that he could find about them. He pored over The Compleat Cockroach for hours. He sprinkled tidbits of information into the dinnertime conversation. “Did you know that it takes twenty seconds to explode a cockroach in the microwave? They explode because they’re so fat—not like ants, which just sit there.” He grinned at Millie. “You can grease cookie sheets with their fat, there’s so much of it.” Another time he said, “Cockroaches can live for a week without their heads. They die after a week only because they can’t drink.” He learned that cockroaches have been around for 360 to 400 million years, compared to only two million for modern man. He built a cockroach farm, like an ant farm only bigger, and spent hours a day observing those splendid creatures. He contemplated opening an insect factory. When Millie objected to using their 401-K money to fund the project, he said, “Insects are the food of the future. Some day there will be money made farming insects, and I’ll be ahead of the curve. Cockroaches could be my flagship product.”

Simon attended to the cockroach hissing, read their thoughts, and realized that, for the most part, cockroaches aren’t profound thinkers. But they are masters of survival. They can live on nothing but book bindings or laundry detergent. And when all else fails, they cannibalize their own. One day Simon realized that the king cockroach was mocking him, deriding the miniscule human history and making much of the longevity of the cockroach family. Mulling this over, Simon became convinced that the only sure way to survive the coming apocalypse was to meld with the cockroaches. For weeks he fretted about how to do this—until one day he burst out laughing. He’d begun already. If not, how could he read their thoughts?

Coming home from Junior’s ball game, tired and hungry, Simon and Millie turned on the kitchen light and found the king cockroach on the counter. They could have harvested him in an instant. But they had leftover veggie pizza in the fridge, so they ignored the king. The king stretched out his neck and flew at Millie. She batted him away. When he persisted, Simon dropped a plastic dishpan over him. On their way to bed, they found two huge cockroaches on the hallway wall, stretching their necks out and eyeing them both. Simon and Millie hurried into the bedroom and slammed the door. Long into the night they heard the cockroaches dive-bombing their door. The next morning, the cockroaches were gone. But Simon knew that, come nightfall, they would be back.

Simon fretted over why the cockroaches were attacking them. He consulted two entomologist friends and learned that cockroaches stretch their necks and fly when they are interested in mating. Simon’s laughter bubbled forth. He and Millie and the cockroaches were on the verge of total melding. Their children’s children’s children would survive.

The End

Owning a pet comes with many powerful benefits, such as improved blood pressure control and maintaining social connections. However, the responsibility of caring for a pet also comes with potential risks and hazards. In Dumb Witness, Agatha Christie even wrote about a woman who may have been killed by her pet dog (but I won’t give away the ending)!

Researching all pets—tortoises, birds, rodents, etc.—is beyond my scope here, so I’ll stick mostly to the most common pets, cats and dogs.

Financial Hazards of Pet Ownership

Owning pets can be hazardous for your financial well-being. The average cost of owning a pet ranges from $1,591 to $2,770 per year, and that’s just for essentials like food, grooming, and vet check-ups. Of course, a lot depends on the pet.

Dogs are more expensive than cats, in general. The average cost of owning a dog ranges from $1,500 to $5,000 in the first year and $1,000 to $3,000 thereafter. The average yearly cost of owning a cat ranges from $250 to $4,000, with common expenses around $1,150 per year, varying by factors like breed, health, and lifestyle choices.

Goldfish? The classic goldfish in a bowl costs practically nothing, but goldfish lovers don’t recommend this. For one thing, they fare better in pairs. And most have a more elaborate setup. This includes around $200 for tank, stand, filter, light, water test kit, food and a few other things. After the initial start up, it will cost you almost nothing. One owner reported spending no money on pet goldfish other than electricity in 6 months.

Health Hazards of Pet Ownership

Beyond money, pets can be hazardous to you health. Pets can transmit diseases like MRSA and roundworm. Many carry allergens that can cause adverse reactions in their owners. Not surprisingly, children are more susceptible to infections from pet feces.

Specifically, dogs can pass salmonella, toxocariasis, Lyme disease, rabies, and MRSA to humans.

Everyone knows about rabies, but less familiar campylobacter is a bacterial disease that causes diarrhea (often bloody), fever, and stomach cramps. Puppies are more likely to spread it than adult dogs.

Reptiles can carry several illnesses on their skin, passing them on to human handlers. Iguanas and snakes might have botulism, campylobacteriosis, or leptospirosis. Pet turtles in particular often carry salmonella on their shells.

Even fish can make you sick! Cleaning a fish tank is a good way to expose yourself to mycobacterium marinum and vibrio bacteria in the water. Doing so with broken skin can lead to fish tank granuloma: painful, itchy, red bumps under the skin. 

Cat-Specific Health Hazards

There are four primary ways cats can spread diseases to humans: feces, bites and saliva, contact with skin or fur, and scratches.

Toxoplasmosis is the most serious cat-dependent disease that can be passed to humans, caused by the parasite Toxoplasma gondii. You can get it from contact with cat feces. Some people get flu-like symptoms. Serious cases of this disease most often affect infants and people with weakened immune systems.

Cat-scratch disease (CSD), a bacterial infection, most often results from a scratch or bite of a cat. The CDC reported in Emerging Infectious Diseases that cat scratch disease can be fatal in humans. The death rate for serious cases is reported to be approximately 30%. A prompt diagnosis is often difficult. Symptoms typically include a non-painful bump or blister at the site of injury and painful and swollen lymph nodes. People may feel tired or have a headache or fever. Symptoms typically begin within 3–14 days from the time of injury.

Other Hazards of Keeping Pets

And then there are the hazards to your living quarters. The most common are dirt, hair, and scratches on furniture and doors. But also pushed-out screens, broken vases or other decorative items, lick-marks on butter. Aquariums can leak and damage floors. Pet birds can fly into ceiling fans, windows, and screens, or make messes on top of hard-to reach cabinets. Having pets can add extra complications when renting: landlords may charge extra deposits, increase rent, or forbid pets from the home altogether.

Pets can be hazardous to your social life. You may have to miss a holiday party to care for an ill or post-op pet, as my youngest daughter did on 4th of July. Trips out of town or even extended work shifts may be curtailed by a pet’s needs. People may decline your invitations because of allergies to pet hair or dander. (I’m so allergic to guinea pig dander that I can’t even be in a room where they have been). Some people might fear your pet reptile. And when your pet doesn’t get along with the pet belonging to your budding love interest…

There is also an almost guaranteed emotional hazard of caring for a pet. With the exception of a few birds and reptiles, most of the common pet species have significantly shorter lifespans than the humans who keep them. A lifetime of loving pets means having to bury a friend every ten or twenty years. Owners may also have to decide whether to put an animal through a painful treatment or to end a beloved pet’s suffering, knowing that there is no way to explain to the animal what is happening.

Clearly, lots of people find pet ownership worth the hazards. As of 2025, 95 million U.S. households owned at least one pet.

Bottom Line: If you choose to own a pet, consider the hazards that might come with your pet-of-choice!

This week, instead of a topical blog, I’m posting a short story. Enjoy!

Feeding Bela*

by
Vivian Lawry

Brian empties a can of Fancy Feast into a bowl—the Cod, Sole and Shrimp Feast—and microwaves it for 15 seconds, just to take the chill off. Bela twines around his ankles, tail waving, depositing black hair on his pant legs. Brian says, “Here you go, kitty. Your favorite.” Bela sniffs the bowl and saunters away.

The food is still untouched at dinner time. Anxiety trickles along Brian’s spine. Loss of appetite. That had been the first sign that something was wrong with his gerbil. Brian says, “What’s the matter, kitty? Are you under the weather?” He offers Bela bits of the chicken breast he grills for dinner. All told, she eats half of it, purring and licking Brian’s fingers as she takes each bite. Electric ecstasies run up Brian’s arm and he breathes more easily.

When Brian goes to bed that night, Bela stretches out on his chest, one paw on either side of his neck, her breath soft on his neck. He strokes her silky back and falls asleep, comforted by their routine. But in the fading hours of night, he wakes—clammy and breathing hard—from the nightmare that has haunted him for the last 30 years: Brian’s gerbil, Socks, lies in his cage, panting. Brian picks up the tiny body, wasted to near nothing by days without eating. As Brian watches, Socks grows paper-thin and disappears. Brian always wakes himself shouting, “No! No!” Now he turns onto his side and curls around Bela, but memories of that time won’t be put down.

He’d run to the kitchen. “Mama! Mama! Socks is really sick now. You’ve got to take him to the doctor!”

Mama looked down at him from her great, sad height. “Don’t talk foolishness, Brian. We can’t afford to take a gerbil to the veterinarian.”

“Please? Please!”

Mama frowned and said, “You have my answer.” But then she stooped down and put her hands on Brian’s shoulders. “Son, we don’t have money to take Socks to the vet and put food on the table. It’s as simple as that. If Socks doesn’t want to eat, there’s nothing we can do about it.” Her tone was gentle but Brian felt as though he’d been hit. Socks lived nearly a week longer. Brian tried to feed him milk from an eyedropper but finally Socks rejected even that. During that week, Brian threw-up everything he ate. He felt as though he betrayed Socks with every bite, as if somehow, he was feeding on Socks. Mama said it wasn’t Brian’s fault that Socks died, and he knew it must be true because Mama never lied. But that wasn’t how he felt. Even now, when Brian’s adult brain assures him that it wasn’t his fault that Socks died, his child heart still shudders.

Brian looks at the clock: 4:17 a.m. He tries to turn off further thought, but visions of his Uncle Moses float to the surface of his consciousness. Uncle Moe gave Brian three goldfish for his seventh birthday. He said, “Here’s Eenie, Meenie, and Miney. You’ve already got Moe!” He laughed and clapped Brian on the back, and Brian smiled, too. He took really good care of those goldfish, keeping the bowl clean and feeding them twice a day. When the family returned from a week-long visit with his grandparents, the first thing Brian did was run to the goldfish bowl to say hello to his friends. He found all three fish floating belly-up. Scot, his friend next door, had locked the key in the house the first day and hadn’t fed them after. Scot cried and said he was sorry and his father offered to buy three new fish, but Brian said, “No. No more pets.”

Mama said, “But it wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

Brian wailed, “It was. It was. Just like if they were my babies. I should’ve found someone better to take care of them.” He ran to his room and buried his face in his pillow. When his mother again tried to comfort him, when she suggested he get some other pet, he cried harder. “No. I’d just kill it, too.” Brian kept that resolution for three decades.

Now Brian cuddles Bela close to his chest and kisses the top of her head. He’s had her for a year now. “But you’re just fine, aren’t you, kitty? And I’m going to see that you stay that way.”

Bela continues to reject Fancy Feast, then all the other brands Brian buys to tempt her. Soon, he gives up on cat food altogether. Bela gets tidbits of people food at every meal. Her favorites are chicken, bacon, and tuna—always from Brian’s hand. But she also eats pork and beef, ice cream and cheese with gusto, and circles the butter dish on a regular basis. After Brian finds the stick of butter with long striations along the top and Bela’s hair as garnish, he’s careful about the lid to his butter dish. He puts out a separate, uncovered dish of butter for Bela.

After a few months, Bela’s appetite again wanes. Brian takes her to the vet. She’s lost half a pound. The vet can find nothing wrong. He says the weight loss is not serious. But Brian resolves to do whatever is necessary. He orders Dakota organic beef, 6 lbs. for $90, and—to add zest to the more pedestrian fare—Russian caviar at $379 for a 4.4 oz. tin, pleased that he can afford to feed his cat whatever she will eat.

Brian’s girlfriend comes to dinner. Her long print skirt swishes as she walks, her silver bangles jingle. She sits to Brian’s right, tucking a wing of black hair behind her left ear. Bela sits on the chair to his left. When the laden plates are on the table, the first thing Brian does is tear off morsels of cod for Bela. “Here, Bela. Here, kitty kitty.” He makes kissing noises and waves a bit of fish under Bela’s nose, tempting her to follow him. He bends low as he carries the treat to Bela’s eating place in the kitchen—proud of being in control, of not feeding Bela at the table.

When he returns, Delia rolls her eyes. “For God’s sake, Brian. You spoil that cat rotten.”

“Jealous?” He looks at Delia’s silky black hair and slanty eyes and grins. “You shouldn’t be. I love the way you slink around the room, the way you rub against me.” Delia smiles. Bela jumps back up on her chair and Brian scratches her ears before turning back to Delia. “And I never pet Bela the way I pet you.” He cover’s Delia’s hand with his own, gazing into her candle-lit eyes. Bela leaps onto the table. When Brian waves the cat away from his fish, Bela hisses, swipes his hand with her claws, and bites his finger. Brian sweeps her off the table. She yowls and runs under the buffet. Brian shakes his hand. “Damn! What did you do that for?” He brings the injured knuckle to his lips.

Delia says, “Here. Let me.” She lifts his hand to her mouth, kisses his wounds, licks them, then sucks them, all the time looking into Brian’s eyes. She turns his hand over and tickles his palm with her tongue. When she kisses his wrist, his pulse throbs. Her tongue traces a warm, wet path up his forearm. Bela watches, swishing her tail from side to side and growling. As Delia slowly takes off his clothes, exploring his body gently, Brian thinks how soft and smooth her tongue is, how different from Bela’s sandpaper rasp.

Two days later, Brian’s finger is swollen—hot, red, painful. His doctor examines the crusted blister. He presses Brian’s swollen lymph nodes. Brian yelps. He tells the doctor he doesn’t have much appetite, feels feverish, has a headache and blurry vision.

The doctor says, “It looks like cat scratch fever—but it could be the bite. Cats are germy—much worse than dogs. When it comes to germs, cats are right up there with human mouths. Did you sterilize the wound?”

Brian flushes and looks away, remembering that night with Delia. They never did finish dinner. “Uh. Not till the next morning.”

The doctor shakes his head. “You should have sterilized the wound,” he says. “Use a heating pad on the lymph nodes.” He writes prescriptions for pain pills and antibiotics.

Brian goes home feeling like hell. He calls Delia. “Maybe you could come by—just long enough to feed Bela for me.”

She says, “I’ll feed you, too. And make sure you take your meds.”

Brian wouldn’t allow just anyone to feed Bela, but Delia is a certified veterinary technician. He has no qualms about entrusting Bela to her. And, after all, if it weren’t for Delia, he wouldn’t even have Bela.

Brian’s neighbor had asked him to help her take her four Labrador retriever pups in for their shots. Delia came into the waiting room where Brian was playing with two of the pups. She smiled at him. “I can tell you love animals,” she said. “You have caring eyes.” Brian pushed his thick glasses up his nose with his middle finger and looked aside, scarlet creeping from his neck to his cheeks. He couldn’t think of anything to say to this beautiful stranger. She laughed, low and intimate—the sort of laugh that tells a man he’s special—and said, “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Christopher Reeve in his Clark Kent persona?” Brian had heard this many times, but saying he knows he looks like Superman seems arrogant. When he doesn’t answer, she continues, “Well, never mind. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Your pups are adorable.” After Brian stammered out a denial of ownership, a halting explanation about helping his neighbor, the woman smiled. Brian noticed her white teeth, her full red lips. She said, “My name is Delia. I’m a surgical technician here.” Delia’s pointy tongue darts across her upper lip. “Would you be interested in adopting a young cat? She’s a real beauty.”

Brian smiles, remembering his introduction to Bela, how she stalked the examining room, tail raised like an antenna; how she stretched—chest low, rump in the air—exposing her tightly pleated rosebud. Brian envied her unselfconscious assurance. She was thin but strong, all black except for a white blaze on her chest. Brian asked her name. Delia shrugged. “She was picked up by Animal Control.”

Brian said, “She looks like she’s wearing a white bib. I think I’ll call her Miss Bibbs—or maybe Bibbsie.” He saw Delia knit her brows and realized that he really wanted this woman to like him. “What do you think?”

Delia said, “She doesn’t strike me as a cute sort of cat. I’ve been calling her Bela.”

As soon as he heard the name, he knew Delia was right. “Perfect. Bela she is.”

While Brian’s left hand is useless, Delia comes every day after work, sometimes still in her aqua scrubs when a surgery runs late. She prepares dinner according to Brian’s instructions and then puts food in his hand so he can feed Bela. Brian says, “Thank you, love. You’re very good to us. When I’m up and about again, I’ll make something fabulous—a regular feast for three.”

Delia smiles and scratches Bela’s ears. “That’ll be great.”

But a few days later, Brian has to see the doctor again. His finger seeps foul-smelling gray liquid, blisters and air bubbles dot his hand, and red ribbons wind toward his wrist. The doctor says, “I can’t understand it. The antibiotics should have prevented gangrene.” He sighs. “I’m afraid we’ve got to amputate the hand. Today.”

Brian jerks back. “What?”

The doctor says, “Gangrene moves fast. We have to move faster. If not, you could end up dead soon.”

Brian gulps and tries to draw enough breath to speak. “Well, if you’ve got to. . . .” His mind races and sweat beads on his brow as he imagines how things might go from bad to worse. He thinks, somehow, things are less likely to go wrong if he’s awake. He says, “General anesthetics are too dangerous. Just give me a local. I can take it.”

They go together to the hospital where Delia meets them. Amputations under local anesthetic are so rare that eleven medical students gather round to watch. Delia squeezes his good hand reassuringly. Afterwards, Brian whispers to her, “I want the hand. Can you get it for me?” She nods, and while everyone is involved in examining Brian, suturing blood vessels, and inquiring about his well-being, he sees Delia retrieve the severed hand, wrap it in a towel, and stick it into the waistband of her scrub pants.

Delia takes Brian home before returning to work. That night, she comes to make dinner and cut his food for him. He’s feverish and hasn’t much appetite. Brian says, “Where’s Bela? Usually she’s agitating for hand-outs by now.” Delia goes to the kitchen, calling, “Here, Bela. Here, kitty kitty.”

When she returns to the dining room, Delia looks sheepish. “I forgot about your hand—left it on the counter this afternoon and…well, Bela tore open the towel and ate part of it.”

Brian is startled, but then it strikes his funny bone. He whoops with laughter. “A severed hand isn’t good for much. Why not cat food?”

Delia smiles tentatively. “You aren’t upset?”

Brian shrugs. “I was just gonna put it in a jar and set it on the shelf beside my tonsils and my kidney stones.” Brian grins. “But it’s looking a little the worse for wear now. Put what’s left in the fridge. Bela can have it tomorrow.”

Brian’s stump does not heal well. The doctor refuses to come to the house. Brian refuses to go to the hospital again. He tells Delia, “Once was enough. Anytime you go into a hospital, you risk being attacked by flesh-eating bacteria or something. No, thank you. I’m not pushing my luck.”

Delia says, “You’ve got to do something.”

Brian shrugs. “Why don’t you take a look at it?”

Delia looks at Brian’s stump and shakes her head, clucks, and shakes her head again. Brian looks at her anxiously. “Can you take care of it?”

Delia says, “I’ll do what I can. But if you ever tell anyone, I’ll be in big trouble. Practicing medicine without a license or whatever.” She opens the wound as wide as possible. She scrapes the dead, infected flesh into a stainless steel bowl, washes the wound with cool sterile water and soap. Delia says, “I’ll flood the wound with a 10% bleach solution every two hours. And I’m leaving the wound uncovered so the air can get to it. That’s the best thing.” She sets the bowl of waste on the kitchen counter. Bela stalks the kitchen, tail waving.

Brian drowses, floating in a sea of painkillers. When he rouses, Bela is licking his stump. He feels euphoric—and the rasp of Bela’s tongue on what used to be his wrist is giving him a hard-on. Delia comes in and lifts Bela off the bed. She looks toward Brian’s erection, smiles, and settles into the bed beside him.

A couple of days later, Brian is obviously worse. He turns glazed eyes toward Delia. “You’ve got to do something.”

When Delia comes from work that evening, she brings scalpels and Black and Decker saws, ketamine and valium from the critical care animal hospital where she works. She says, “The ketamine and valium will deaden the pain, but I’ve got to warn you: ketamine is hallucinogenic for humans.” She administers the valium orally and the ketamine intravenously and within minutes, Brian is feeling no pain. While Delia amputates his arm at the elbow, Brian falls into a hole where his body moves in rhythmic waves from head to toe, buoyed on some cosmic ether, his body warping and stretching in slow-motion. He closes his eyes and everything he sees is in intense reds, blues, greens, and yellows. The colors ebb and flow, and he feels the pulsations, a strangely familiar beat beat beating that he finally identifies as Delia’s heartbeat—or maybe Bela’s. When he opens his eyes, he sees Bela from a great distance, no bigger than a grasshopper, thin and flat as paper. Delia looks like a paper doll, too. She touches his chest, her hand silicone—like the only embalmed body he ever touched. Brian can’t tell how much time has passed, but Delia holds a severed lump of flesh. At first, Brian can’t figure out what it is, red and white and wet. Finally, he remembers. He says, “Put it in the fridge. Bela seems to like it.”

Delia takes a leave of absence from work so she can take care of Brian and feed Bela. Bela stops growling at Delia. Delia stops locking Bela out of the bedroom, just moves her over when bedtime comes. Brian is pleased that Delia and Bela have taken a fancy to each other. Delia washes Brian’s stump with sterile saline and the bleach solution, gives him pain pills and antibiotics every four hours around the clock. But it doesn’t do any good. Brian’s third amputation is just at the shoulder. As the ketamine takes effect, Brian feels like he’s dying. This time, the rhythmic moves of his body are side to side. He zooms down and around and up, a carnival ride without the jerks, all the way to other worlds. Delia says, “I’m sorry, love.”

Brian says, “That was a hell of a trip. Thanks. Feed Bela for me.”

Following each amputation, Brian grows weaker. Bela just grows. She gains twenty pounds eating Brian’s jettisoned parts. Her thirty-five-pound body is solid, her black coat sleek. She seldom leaves his room. When she jumps up onto Brian’s bed, he thinks she looks lithe as a panther. At night, Delia curls next to his good side while Bela settles in to guard his wounded side. Brian feels loved and comforted—and proud that Bela is thriving.

Brian wakes in the night, the stench of gangrene assaulting him. By the light of a full moon, he sees grey welts fanning out from his left shoulder stump toward his chest, knowing that in full light, they would show red. He feels the heat of infection. Bela licks his wound. Delia is asleep, her head on his right shoulder. He strokes her hair, her cheek, her back. She rouses. Brian says, “I think this is the end.” He chuckles weakly and adds, “What’s left to amputate?” Delia sobs, holding close to Brian’s chest. He says, “You’ll feed Bela for me, won’t you?”

When Delia speaks, her voice is tearful. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take good care of her.”

Brian says, “There’s an ax and a saw in the garage. Those, along with what you brought from the clinic, ought to be all you’ll need. Put me in the freezer. I’m still a pretty big man. But when I’m gone—I don’t know what you’ll do. Cope as best you can.” Brian sighs and scratches Bela’s ears. She purrs and swishes her tail and blinks at Delia.

Delia looks over Brian’s chest, her eyes glowing yellow-green. She says, “Here kitty, kitty. Come to mama.”

THE END

*”Feeding Bela” was originally published (without pictures) in Willard & Maple XIII, 2007-08, 91-97

Note: All of these cats are available for adoption from Richmond Animal League. To the author’s knowledge, none of them have a taste for human flesh.

This week, instead of a topical blog, I’m posting a short story. Enjoy!

THE DARWINIAN CO-OP LENDING LIBRARY*

by
Vivian Lawry

We have all these people waiting in line, see, because we always have long lines for the holidays, and I had to tell this woman all the turkey basters are out. So she just goes off on me—like, “What kind of a lending library is this? First you don’t have a meat grinder and now no turkey baster?”

I’m, like, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you have to request meat grinders through inter-library loan.”

And then she goes, “That’s no excuse for the turkey baster!”

I’m like, “It’s five o’clock on Christmas Eve, ma’am. All the turkey basters are out.”

And she goes, “I’ve belonged to the Friends of the Library for thirty years, and this is the treatment I get? Who do you think donated the Santa suit, Bozo, the scuba-diving equipment—not to mention red sheets and heart pillows for roll-away beds. Just see if I donate anything else!”

Everyone behind her shifts from foot to foot and rolls their eyes, trying to balance punch bowls and tinsel and stuff. But co-ops run on donations. The head librarian invites her to have a cup of tea, says she could check out a nice lemon zester, or a fish poacher. I think the old days I’ve heard about, when people borrowed books and seldom came in around the holidays, weren’t so bad. But once we started lending tapes and CDs and children’s puzzles, there was no turning back.

The next person in line’s a repeater. This’s his third year checking out a puppy on Christmas Eve. He’ll renew for a second two weeks, until his kids shirk their puppy chores. Word’s out about our pet collection—we do a brisk business in rabbits and chicks for Easter—but puppies are tops. So I hand over the collie mix, yap-yap-yapping and wiggling his butt. The man says, “Do you have a goldendoodle? The kids would like a goldendoodle this year.”

I’m like, “This is our last puppy.”

He eyes the wriggling furball and goes, “How about tropical fish? Or a bear cub? Hey, I’ve got it. A de-scented skunk. That would be really festive.”

So finally I’m like, “We’ve had a run on pets. It’s either this puppy or a cat, your choice.” He reaches for the puppy. No one ever checks out a cat.

We expected the run on pets. But the really hot item—totally took us by surprise—has been kids—preschoolers, mostly, old enough not to wet the bed and young enough to be cute, suitable for photos and not too picky about presents. The parents who donate them mostly head someplace warm, and require a two-week-minimum loan. I turn to the couple picking up twins, and slide the informed consent form across the counter. The little girl says, “We get Cocoa Puffs for breakfast and Coke before we go to bed.” The boy kicks the man in the shins.

I’m like, “Read the parts about allergies and bedtime snacks carefully before you sign them out.”

Then this woman rushes in, navy banker suit and pearls, and budges in front of the line. I think there’ll be a blow-up. But everyone just stands there while she goes, “I need a family.”

I’m like, “You need to wait your turn.”

She goes, “I don’t have time to wait. My parents called from the airport—‘Surprise, we’re here for Christmas with you and Joe and the kids.’ I never thought this would happen, never in a million years.” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “Look, years ago I told them I eloped, to keep them off my back. Then they wanted grandkids, so I made some up. But now they’re here, and I’ve got to have a family for Christmas!” Someone behind her snickers. She blushes. “Surely you have one. I only need one.”

I go, “You are so in luck. We have a father with three kids left.”

She looks startled when they come out. Then she laughs, tucks a blond curl behind her ear, and goes, “Perfect! I don’t even have to make up a reason for keeping them apart, for not sending pictures.” She laughs again and leaves, arm in arm with the tall black father, the three kids trailing like ducklings.

Someone says, “What kind of woman would lend her husband and kids over Christmas?”

And I’m like, “Lots of Jewish families are okay with it. And single-parent families. And sometimes psychotherapists. Therapists are really pressed for time around the holidays.”

The next woman leans in and goes, “I reserved the Chinese grandparents.” As if I’d asked, she goes, “My children need exposure to Mandarin before we visit the homeland—and to the whole female subservience thing.”

So I’m like, “Whatever.” I run her card, hand her the due date slip. “Remember, back by Boxing Day or you incur huge fines. Merry Christmas.”

A teenage girl edges up to the counter, eyes skittering sideways, and whispers, “I don’t really need to check out a whole person. I just need—you know—parts.”

I stifle a laugh. I’m like, “What exactly do you need?”

She glances at her flat chest and goes, “I need a couple of pounds of body fat—just till after New Year’s.”

I print her due date slip. IMHO, body parts are going to be our next high-demand items.

I glance at the clock. Nearly six. A short man in a black coat and homburg steps forward and goes, “Do you honor cards from other libraries?”

I’m like, “We have reciprocal agreements with all the regional libraries.”

He goes, “Great! I want a book—T’was the Night Before Christmas.”

I don’t know what to say, so I’m like, “Let me check with the head librarian.”

The head librarian goes, “I’m sure we have a copy somewhere. Let me check the antiquities index.” She heads off at a half trot, the man in the homburg hard on her heels.

The clock strikes six and I’m like, “Yes.” I leave her to it, check out my own two pounds of body fat and my escort for The Nutcracker, and head home for the holidays.

THE END

*This story was originally published (without pictures) in the Clackamas Literary Review, 2011, Vol. XV, 124-127.

My much-loved sister flew in to stay with me for a wonderful four days—our first time together in years! We talked and talked and talked some more: spouses, extended family, children and grandchildren, frustrations, gardening, everyone’s health and well-being, books, cars, my writing…

My sister is considerate and eager to be helpful. We celebrated my birthday. In short, it couldn’t have been a better visit.

On the drive home after dropping her off at the airport, I started a mental to-do list. And I realized that there is always a downside to houseguests. The slope and extent of the downside varies with how many people have come and how compatible they are, but there’s always something. In short, every silver lining has a cloud!

At the Minimum

• Extra sheets and towels—and maybe napkins—to launder
• Remaking the guest bed(s)
• Resetting the table(s) for permanent residents only

Depending on the Host’s Circumstances

• Returning furniture to its former place/function, for example, having moved chairs so that everyone can see the TV
• Putting away cots or sleeping bags
• Catching up on work neglected during the visit
• Doing laundry for the guest(s) during the visit
• Dealing with leftovers or specially-purchased foods after departure
• Transportation to/from airport, bus terminal, or train station
• Arranging parking for guest vehicle

Compatibility with Houseguests

Sometimes, the houseguests and hosts do not quite match each others’ energy.

• Distinctly different political or social viewpoints can affect everything from what topics are discussed to which news programs are watched or even result in more-or-less hostile “discussions.”
• If one is religious and the other isn’t, one or the other must compromise on prayer in the home and attendance at services.
• Sometimes one is go-go and the other is essentially a slug.
• Sometimes one talks while the other is trying to read, listen to the news, or watch a particular TV show.
• When one is a night owl and the other is an early bird, it affects everything from scheduling of activities and amusements to the timing of meals.
• Food restrictions or preferences can often lead to friction
  • Firm or soft scrambled eggs, regular or decaf coffee, fruit vs. juice, vegan/vegetarian vs. meat eaters, etc.

Hazards Beyond Anyone’s Control

• Planned activities must be cancelled because of rain, heat, or snow
• Someone needs medical attention for a fall, allergic reaction, or sudden illness
• Automobile accident, even if not catastrophic

Houseguests Who are All Downside

And then there are houseguests who are just “bad.” They…

• Without prior discussion, expect the host to supply everything from sun hats to sleepwear to toiletries
• Raid refrigerator or cupboard and snack on something needed for a meal
• Take over the host’s preferred chair or place at the table
• Make unreasonable demands for food, activities, accommodations, etc.
• Take possession of the TV remote or the daily newspaper
• Ask the host for money or to purchase something rather than wait for an offer
• Put their feet on the furniture, shoes on
• Take a book from the host’s “to-be-read” stack and ask to take it with them when they leave. Or presume rather than ask.
  

With this last category, you might well ask yourself, “Can I avoid ever having this person in my home again?”

Bottom Line: When it comes to houseguests, consider whether the upside is worth the downside!

When I—naively—thought of AI (artificial intelligence), I thought of students using it to do homework or the rest of us doing quick online searches, but it is everywhere!

Yes, it is in classrooms. On 7/29/25, 60 Minutes replayed a segment in which Anderson Cooper visited a school where AI is used not only to catch plagiarism but also to guide students toward the correct answers or conclusions without actually giving the answer and help teachers identify who needs help with what.

Rachel Madow (7-21-25) presented some of the many ways artificial intelligence has been used to create fake news about her on X, Facebook, etc. For example, images showing her with a baby she never had and helping rescue victims of the Texas floods, where she never was.

The Wall Street Journal (6/30/25) had a Journal Report on AI with multiple sections:

• An AI built career coach and its advantages
• Having a romantic relationship with AI and what 3 experts had to say about them and the people who seek them
• A woman who wrote a novel about a woman building an artificially intelligent lover and why the author believes they won’t replace real partners
• How and why advertising offerings as “Powered by AI” reduces people’s inclination to trust and buy them
• How AI makes learning easier but may result in a weaker understanding of the topics afterward
• AI telling people what they want to hear and the dangers of that
• The promise and peril of artificial intelligence

Subsequently, (7/9/25) the WSJ carried articles on Blackdot using a robot powered by AI to give tattoos and another comparing an AI robot massage to one given by a live therapist.

So all of this led me to explore other ways that, hitherto unbeknownst to me, AI is out there.

Unconventional AI

Tech Wire Asia and ClickWorker According to sources across the web, as of July 2025, AI is being used in surprising and unconventional ways, such as:

• Robot pet companions
• Enhancing hive health in beekeeping
• To generate music and songs
• Aid in preservation of traditional crafts
• Guidance in spiritual studies
• Street art preservation
• Content creation for historical fiction
• Winemaking
• Flavor development in culinary arts
• Fashion styling
• Art creation
• Fake news generation
• Autonomous military weapons
• Cyberattack escalation

Weirdest AI

Medium recently published an article describing the weirdest things people are doing with generative AI.

• Toothbrushes that give real-time feedback on brushing
• Kitchen robots that fry food
• Generating fake news
• Apps that detect cat pain
• Tools for penis health analysis
• Electric shoes that learn walking patterns
• Designing whisky
• Mattresses that adjust sleep positions
• Perfume creation
• Talking to whales
• Managing beehives and robotic bees
• Fish recognition
• Toilets that monitor health
• Tinder for cow

Bottom Line: AI is with us for good—but also bad and ugly. The creative potential of artificial intelligence is accompanied by mega-risks.