Several years ago, for Christmas me and my sisters took on a tremendous task. We decided to sort, dust off, organize, salvage and display all of my parents old photographs. We secretly smuggled out the bins and bins of pictures that had been sitting in their garage and attic for the last 45 years. We took them to our homes and spent hours, days, weeks, even months going through them. We put them all in chronological order (at least the best we could) and then put them in albums and presented it to them for Christmas. It was huge. It was exhausting. It was totally fun.
At the end of the sorting we had a random pile of pictures. It was all pictures of animals and people we didn't know. We decided to make an album titled "Pets and Friends." We laughed for days that my parents had enough pictures of their pets to create an entire album. So, when it came to deciding what to do for this years birthday, birthday, anniversary party, we knew just what to do.
They arrived and entered the mudroom. Here lay the clues for this years celebration.
Upon closer inspection, they should have noticed that some of the headstones had names they were familiar with. Like, the names of some very old and long since deceased pets of theirs.
As they left the mudroom, we had white crepe paper hanging down that they had to go through. It was supposed to be symbolic. They were passing through. They had gone from a pet cemetery to heaven. And all of those pets, the pets that had filled that entire album, were very much alive. Like this cute cat and dog. Alive, I tell you. Alive and well.
Everyone was dressed in white. Animals were everywhere, dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, turtles and fish. With white streamers twirling on the ceiling fan we danced away to the song "If I saw you in heaven" all the while hugging and pretending to reunite with our beloved animals. We ended the performance with a rousing rendition of "who let the dogs out."
On the table we had blown up several of the pet pictures and put them in frames.
The kitchen was Petsmart. Your one stop shop for all of your pet needs.
We dined on dog food (muddy buddies), a nacho cheese sauce which I cannot say what it represented because it is not appropriate, and tootsie roll cat poo (also, not totally appropriate). And really, not all of the parties involve poo, just the last two. And I have to say that Krista was the one who positioned the cat like that on the table, over the kitty litter.
After the food we began the games. We had all of the pets names on cards and the kids had to take them and try to sort them into the categories. What were the names of all of Grammy and Poppy's cats, dogs, rats, bunnies and turtles? Could they figure it out? They didn't even come close. We also played a dog version of musical chairs.
We then gathered around the guests of honor and each of the kids picked a different pet and then we listened to Grammy and Poppy tell stories about that beloved animal. Now, I am sitting in the middle, because pet stories are one of my specialties. The stories of my pets growing up have captivated the attention of my children since they were little and were and still are often requested at bedtime. Stories like, how our cat almost ate our two birds after he had been shot with a bb gun, how one kitten was eaten alive by our next door neighbors dog, how we used to have 2 bats in Monterey that we named Barney and Bertha, how Christmas morning was put on hold to find a lost dog, how our turtles dug little tunnels in the dirt and lived there, how one of our cats drank anti-freeze, how our bunny turned into a highly dangerous and dreaded attack animal that I had to risk my life to save my sister from, how our dalmatian dog had epilepsy, how the birds used to fly around our house and sit on my dad's head, how a lost and loved dog was found after many tears and prayers, and the list goes on. We sat for a long time telling and listening to stories of these treasured pets. And then we presented them with a gift. Some animal toys for their current pet, Bailey.
I grew up in a home with pets, lots of them, obviously. They were very much a part of my childhood. But, sadly, the love of animals gene that my parents have, did not get passed on to me. Much to my children's dismay, I am not an animal lover.
But for tonight, I made an exception and I welcomed them, my pets, into my home with open arms. (It wasn't so hard to do since they were mostly stuffed)
And my kids are happy because they believe that we will see them all in heaven (all of them except that darn attack bunny) and oh, what a reunion it will be, for all of us!
