Two students in Broome Street and Second Street share how taking care of their pets contributes to a healthier lifestyle.

Kiran Arain

When you walk into Tisch junior Kiran Arain’s dorm in Broome Street, Moth is there to greet you. 

“When someone comes in who’s new, they see the cat, they immediately get excited,” Arain said. “They interact with her, and suddenly it’s just that much easier to spring into a conversation with them. She acts as a really good buffer.”

Moth’s possessions are scattered around the room — a collection of stuffed animals, beds and wooden cat posts. Arain majors in collaborative arts and environmental studies at the Tisch School of the Arts, a background that has allowed her to better care for her cat.

“I actually got most of these items for free off the street, and I took them and I cleaned them,” Arain said. “Collaborative arts has a fantastic little wood workshop, and I used that to put them together again.”

Growing up, Arain surrounded herself with animals. In addition to having a pet dog back home, she also volunteered at the Humane Society, helping dogs, cats and horses. After moving out to college, however, she was hit hard by this loss of connection. 

“When I was alone, particularly freshman and sophomore year, I struggled with a lot of mental health issues,” Arain said. “It harmed my motivation a lot. I found living with animals nice because you always have a purpose in the morning. You have to get up, you have to feed them.” 

Missing this interaction, Arain began to contemplate getting an emotional support cat. After hosting a trial run by pet sitting her suitemate’s emotional support cat, she was sold.

“I had a suitemate move in, who herself had an emotional support cat,” Arain said. “She was a Siamese, also a rescue. [My suitemate] had to go back home for a few weeks, and asked if I could cat sit [for] her, and I did. I was actually really shocked. I mean, I always knew it had benefits, but I was pretty shocked at just how much it helped.” 

Moth has the biggest benefit on Arain’s daily routine — having a pet that depends on her for food in the morning gets her going earlier in the day and following a tight schedule.

“Anything in motion stays in motion,” Arain said. “It’s easier to go about your day when you’re on your feet, so she’s almost like a catalyst for me to get other things done. I’m here to feed her breakfast at 9 a.m., I’m home at 8 p.m. and having that routine means I sleep earlier. I eat on time too, because when I feed her, I go to get myself a snack, so automatically, I’m healthier because of it.”

The process of acquiring an emotional support cat in a dorm is lengthy and begins several weeks before the first regular housing deadlines. As part of the application, a licensed clinician must document the specific benefits of the accommodation. This request is then sent to the Moses Center for Accessibility and Inclusive Culture to be reviewed by a committee for approval. While Arain acknowledges the importance of these steps in the vetting process, she also questions its overly-bureaucratic nature. 

“I don’t know why I assumed it would be a bit easier than it was — it really wasn’t,” Arain said. “I had this issue with Moth where my papers were filed a little bit late for her. It’s literally because the paper is like a day late, and you need one more day to scan it, can she not just stay?” 

Once approved, another barrier arises: finding a roommate. While having an emotional support cat comes with a learning curve for its owner, it can be even harder to find people willing to learn the correct ways to handle them. Arain says that sometimes, people can handle cats in ways that can be detrimental to their health. 

After this arduous process is over, however, the two of them are able to coexist, with Moth holding Arain accountable for her health, and Arain giving Moth the loving home she’s missed out on. 

“Honestly, and I mean this in the most endearing way, she really has just a pathetic backstory,” Arain said. “I really resonated with her because maybe if I was a cat, I’d probably have the same kind of luck.”

Moth has moved a total of four different times in her life — first when the owners’ house burned down and they left her there, second after getting fleas, third for bullying the owner’s other cat and one final time before Arain adopted her.

“I’m so shocked that they even thought about returning her,” Arain said. “And then she was in foster homes for about a year and a half, and then came to me and then lost all her teeth. So her luck never, never, never gets better.”

When asked about Moth’s name, a moment from her time living alone in Alumni Hall over the previous summer came to mind.

“I’ve always had this fascination with moths and their ability to be drawn to a flame,” Arain said. “In Alumni, I had a moth come into my room, and moths don’t survive really well in the city because the lights are always on, so they can’t actually navigate their way home. I felt really bad for it, and I caught it, and I let it out my window just to watch it go to the next house.” 

When reading Moth’s story at the shelter, Arain couldn’t help but draw parallels, not just in her tragic backstory, but to her appearance as well.

“I feel like she keeps going to places and trying to find something that she’s not getting, so that was a big inspo for the name,” Arain said. “And also, she has these giant ears where, if she sticks them up, it almost looks like moth wings, so I think it fits.”

Isabella Martinez 

Gallatin sophomore Isabella Martinez was set on the name Blu even before she realized he had blue eyes. But after nine hours in the car with her grandmother to pick up the golden doodle from the breeder, she knew it was a perfect fit.

“Blu is a service animal, and he went to training before we came here,” Martinez said. “I just was like, ‘This is my son. I can’t live without my son, so he’s gonna be coming to school with me too.” 

Blu hails from the rural town of Whitesburg, Kentucky and was raised in Martinez’s current home in Georgia. The two have been an inseparable pair for over five years.

“We basically have never been apart — he goes everywhere with me,” Martinez said. “I grew up in the Virgin Islands, so we just went there during Christmas break, and he was able to swim in the ocean. He loves it; he’s like a fish in the water. He lives it up.”

Despite habitating in New York City for nearly two years, Blu is still adjusting to city life, only willing to use the bathroom on grass. Whether in Lipton Hall last year or Second Street this year, Martinez is willing to make the trek to care for Blu.

“Lipton was amazing because I was right across the street from the dog park, and that’s right at Blu’s jam, so it was great for him,” Martinez said. “It’s still convenient here [in Second Street] because it’s a 15-minute walk from the park.” 

Although not as expansive as the ocean, while in the few green spaces where Blu can let loose, Martinez is reminded of how energetic he can be. 

“I always joke and say he’s like an athlete, like he’s like an Olympian,” Martinez said. “I don’t know where he gets that blood from, but he’s very athletic. He’s like a swimmer, he could be a track and field athlete, he could be a soccer player like Ronaldo.” 

Martinez enjoys personifying who Blu could be, imagining different careers, interests and personalities he might have if he was a person.

“He’s a very progressive guy,” Martinez said. “I see him as a professor, as a poli-sci major. He minors in Aristotle and Plato and focuses on justice. I made him an NYU ID. I know he’s a human stuck in this furry body, but I think he’s okay with it because he knows that he’s living his best life.” 

In taking care of Blu, Martinez is reminded to take better care of herself.

“Blu keeps me at equilibrium,” Martinez said. “It’s just nice to have a responsibility. He reminds me to get outside, he reminds me to take care of myself, to spend time in nature and to be present in the moment.”

Contact Grayson Stotz at [email protected].