If there is anything that watching endless Inspector Gadget cartoons in our youth taught us, it’s the relationship between pets and (occasionally evil) genius. Take Gadget himself, a clueless mess of springs and doodads; the hapless inspector would never crack a case without the help of his niece and their aptly named dog, Brain. Likewise, I seriously doubt that Gadget’s nemesis, Doctor Claw, could have achieved much without his trusted, purring cat. In keeping with the Gadget tradition, many self-described beings of higher intellect, aka graduate students, often require furry or scaly familiars to accompany them in their academic misadventures.

Pets are part of the perks of living off-campus and outside the dorms. Many of the UW’s graduate students come from outside Washington state and are separated from their families and friends. Making the move with a pet by one’s side is a great way to retain a sense of home in a new city.

“My cats are like a little family for me — wherever I go, I try to take them too. They provide a lot of companionship,” said Catherine Warner, a Ph.D. student of history who moved to the UW from the University of Pennsylvania last autumn. “I plan to take my cats with me to Madison, Wis., where I’ll be studying this summer. They keep me entertained, and they help me to remember that sometimes I just need to stop and pet a cat and not worry so much about school work.”

For other graduate students, adopting a pet while in graduate school was the perfect way to recreate fond childhood memories or to save an animal from euthanasia at the animal shelter. Megan Acheson, a master’s student in the School of Fisheries and Aquatic Sciences adopted her dog, Kai, from a shelter in Tacoma to serve both these purposes.

“I had grown up with dogs; I’ve always been a dog person,” Acheson explained. “A few months ago, I was snowshoeing and playing with a friend’s dog, and suddenly, I remembered how much I missed having a dog in my life.”

Being a dog person already, Acheson was prepared for the many responsibilities that come with caring for a pet. Those thinking about adoption would be wise to speak with shelter staff to determine if they have the time, money and patience to meet a pet’s many needs.

“It’s worth it for me, but I don’t think a dog is for everyone,” Acheson warned. “I often have to come home from school and take Kai out for a walk and then commute all the way back, and my plans aren’t as flexible as they used to be.”

Acheson lives in Fremont and crates Kai while she is on campus. Luckily for her and Kai, she has roommates who are highly supportive and who agreed in advance to put up with the messes, noises and challenges of having a puppy in the house.

Sometimes the costs of a pet are higher than just shots, tags and food. Occasionally, unexpected issues emerge that are both academic and monetary.

“At times, my cats have interfered with my work. During fall quarter, my cat Serena, who is partially blind, got out, and I couldn’t find her for two days. I had to get an extension on a paper while I looked. Out of desperation, I eventually called a pet psychic to help me find her.” Warner recounted, who credits the psychic with eventually reuniting her with a healthy, but frightened, Serena.

Pets love unconditionally; they never judge us on a lackluster paper, though they occasionally do eat our homework.

They don’t hurl insults or compete with us for coveted funding or TA positions. They make our lives richer and our schedules more well-rounded.

Here’s to them — they are the fish in the tank whose calm laps ease our troubled minds as we generate ideas that may or may not change the world, or at least the future of the ivory tower in which we would-be academics live. They are the St. Bernard who carries a whiskey flask and digs us out from beneath an avalanche of midterms we’re grading, or the snake to whom we feed white mice we’ve stolen from our research position at the lab.

A pet is another heartbeat in a wide city, full of people, grids, systems and interdisciplinary assumptions that confuse and torment us. Pets let us know that we are not alone as we strive to discover ways to make our planet a better place, or on the rare occasions, as we design our plans of wicked world dominion.

So if you have the time, the money and the inclination, consider adopting a sidekick of your own and practice saying the following in front of your mirror: “Next time, Gadget, next time.”

Reach columnist Liz Brady at features@dailyuw.com.