The Jewish calendar is unusual. Not only does it have multiple New Years, it has four — two for humans, one for trees, and one for animals.

Today is the New Year of the Animals — Rosh Hashanah LaBehamot. It specifically acknowledges the domestic animals in our lives.

It is also the beginning of Elul, the month that immediately precedes the human New Year of Rosh Hashanah.

Rabbi Raysh Weiss writes, “Traditionally, the new month of Elul marks our count-down to the approaching Jewish new year and heralds in the season of heshbon ha–nefesh—taking stock of our souls and our actions through intense introspection and repentance. But … Elul is also the perfect opportunity for us to prepare ourselves for the coming new year through refining and improving our relationships with those with souls around us, perhaps beginning… with those most dependent on us for their welfare—domesticated animals.”

Noting the opportunity the day gives us to reflect on our relationship with animals, liturgist Trisha Arlin wrote a beautiful confession for this Holy Day. It ends with these words:

“Breath of Life,
Remembering us in Death,
The Fierce Mystery:
We acknowledge, celebrate, and give thanks for all the ways the animals have made our lives possible.
We confess to cruelty and hypocrisy.
We ask your forgiveness for all the wrongs we have done our domestic beasts.
We are blessed by their lives.
May we learn to be a blessing to them.
And we wish them a Happy New Year and Hodesh Tov (a good month).”

An enormous number of us live with animals. No one knows for sure, but the American Pet Products Association estimates that as many as 71% of American households own at least one pet. That’s 95 million homes.

A 2023 report by the Pew Research Center states, “About half of U.S. pet owners say their pets are as much a part of their family as a human member.” And to prove the point, the headline is followed by a photo of a dog, with a caption reading, “Washington, D.C. dog Bagel is a member of the Pew Research Center family.”

The amount of money we spend on them is staggering. But we don’t care. We buy whatever they need, and then more.

We lavish love on them. And we teach them to love us back, a trick that wild dogs learned thousands of years ago to encourage humans to share resources with them. They discovered that a dog who snarls is less likely to get handouts than one who wags its tail.

As I wrote this, I was preparing to take my 14-year-old dog to the vet for a final farewell. He could barely walk this morning; once he managed to stand up, he couldn’t sit down again. He was clearly suffering and getting worse by the hour.

So I did what any caring pet owner would do. I gave him a piece of chocolate.

He politely declined. He wasn’t in the mood for food, even end-of-life forbidden delights.

When we met, he was 7½ years old and had lived in a no-kill shelter for nearly his entire life. No one wanted him; he was too skittish. He wouldn’t let anyone pet him. His legs were scarred from sleeping on hard floors.

In the years since, he made it his practice never to sit on a bare floor. He would sleep only on dog beds or carefully folded blankets.

I consider myself lucky to have shared my life with him. And I know he was lucky to have had me in his.

I find it fitting that he chose to go as evening fell and the New Year of the Animals began.

May his soul be blessed.