My Pet Bees
My favorite animal is a pet rock. It’s my younger brother’s fault.
When he was growing up, my brother was highly allergic to animal fur. No fur meant zero cuddly pets—just fish. The first time I came home from school and found out one of our beloved fish had died, it was heartbreaking. Before long, coming home to a floating fish was a regular occurrence. I couldn’t take it. I decided pets were not for me.
When I became a Rhode Island beekeeper, everything changed. At first, it was all about the honey. I also loved poring through beekeeping catalogs, learning about all the cool gadgets I had to have. I convinced myself I needed all these super tools to be a professional beekeeper. Actually, I just wanted to organize my adorable bee house.
It didn’t take me long to I realize I loved my bees. We have a lot in common. They are organized, just like me. I used to joke that I was a queen bee, but the truth is, I’m totally a worker bee. The queen’s job is vital—laying up to 1,000 eggs a day. You go girl! But those worker bees are busy, really busy. Among their duties are foraging for food, building honeycomb, keeping the nest clean, and defending the nest from predators. To do all that you have to be super organized. I’ve learned a lot from my bees. The honey is also great.
So, after all, I think bees are my favorite pet. But I still love saying that my favorite animal is a pet rock. It just cracks me up to say it.