What You Call Friendship

This thing called friendship cares neither for age nor for species. Sometimes your closest friend turns out to be a dog. Now some of you will say, “well of course it's a friend — because you feed it, because you give it food and water and look after it.” True. It becomes my friend because I show it care and love. But then what of the people to whom you show all this and who, in spite of it, are no friend at all?

Those who, out of their selfishness, their ambition, their whims and their envy, do you harm even though you treat them well? While they can't even measure up to an animal, are the animals who answer kindness with friendship the wicked ones?

If being an animal is the wicked thing, then to my mind no animal is an animal, but most humans are. I've said it before; look at the animals. Study them. Watch them. Have you ever seen an animal scheme behind the back of the person who feeds it — to strip them of everything they have, or out of sheer envy? An animal trying to wound, to hurt, to humiliate someone?

I have. They were not the least bit like animals; they looked thoroughly, unmistakably human. In fact, for a long while I mistook them for human. Even my Vendetta, showing me love and loyalty because I gave him food and water for two days, feels human to me when I look at all the other human-animals who have crossed my life.

At least he listens like a human, loves like a human, lives like a human. Without harm, without envy, without thinking or doing wicked things. This is why some animals are precious, and this is why some people are, in truth, more animal than any beast.

This thing called friendship is also a little of this: in your good days many are at your side; the matter is whose door you can knock on in your bad ones. How many people can you call at midnight? Our contact lists are crowded, but for most of us the answer is embarrassingly short. Vendetta has no contact list; but he knows the sound of the door. He has no reason to rejoice when I walk in. No gain, no calculation, no tomorrow. He simply is. Perhaps that is what friendship is: a state of being present, without accounting.

In short: a friend is one who loves you not because they need you, but because you are you. If you find it in people, know its worth; if you cannot, look into the eyes of an animal — it's right there, waiting. Stay well.