Paws For Concern

Last summer was a tough one for yours truly. I was going through PBR withdrawal and two of our three family pets succumbed to the cruel wraths of both time and nature. Sadie, our eldest pug, died first. She’d been on her last leg for a long time, but led a full life of eating, sleeping and getting what she wanted. At the end of the summer, our chow, Tuffy, followed. Tuffy was my Christmas present in 4th grade. He waltzed in the front door on Christmas Eve, a little white furry poof with a plaid ribbon around his neck. If it weren’t for the ribbon, I probably couldn’t have discerned which end was which. So, enough of the tear-jerking rememberances. Let’s take a left from Memory Lane onto the much eerier Pet Cemetery Avenue.

A friend of a friend sent me this link. As you can see, it’s for “pet preservations.” Also known as freeze-dry taxidermy. Some of the photos are truly alarming/captivating, but pale in comparison to the owner testimonials:

I was not prepared for her arrival in a box yesterday. I was home alone and afraid to open it but I finally got the courage to do so. I can't describe the realm of emotions that overwhelmed me, from spooky to a sense of peace and love. I shed as many tears yesterday as I did the day she drowned. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. After a couple of hours I began to brush her and talk to her like I used to.

I’m not one to give unsolicited advice, but c’mon, lady…get a new dog or go pay for a male hooker. I loved my dogs, but I just don’t see anything good coming out of using Tuffy as the base for a coffee table or Sadie as a decorative flourish for the book case. The last thing I need is another set of reproachful eyes while I watch “The Surreal Life” in my underwear.