One unseasonably hot day in the winter of 2022, I stepped through my door in Washington, DC, to the sound of birds screaming. At least that’s how I interpreted the racket in the trees. And I didn’t blame them. This weather must be driving the animals absolutely crazy, I thought. They can feel in their bodies that things in general are going wrong, and there’s nothing they can do about it. It took me a moment to remember that I am an animal, too, that I could feel in my body that things in general were going wrong, that the weather was driving me crazy, and that every conversation I’d have that day would start with the same avian squawk: “Can you believe how hot it is?” Even if we’d prefer to think of ourselves as the inside to animals’ outside, humans and nonhumans are stuck together in this planetary crisis.ii