This article is part of the The Bradford Exchange series.
I certainly don't need the busy hubbub of the modern world. No, sir, I don't need it at all. All I need are my pet themed collectibles. They remind me of all the good times I've had with my precious friends over these long, long years.
Oh, I see you're already looking at my collection. I don't blame you! I'm quite proud of it myself.
Oh that? That's just my Precious Paws Dog Angel. I picked that one up because it reminded me of my faithful companion Robert. He was a wonderful Bichon Frise, with an ornery but loveable spirit. He got into some old jars and died of the botulism in the summer of '88.
I still sometimes hear his little paws scampering across the floor. This lovely ornament reminds me of all the joy he brought me. I just know he is smiling down from me in Heaven. If he could speak - and I do believe dogs can speak fluent English in Heaven - he would surely say "you were my paw-fect friend!"
I'll never forget my dear sweet purring angel, Dazzle. She was the light of my life. I remember when I first found her in the old shed out back. I heard a strange noise and opened the door and the floor was littered with eggs. "Great! Another infestation of giant spiders," I thought. Thankfully these were cat eggs, and soon one hatched and offered up my darling Dazzle. The other eggs did not fare so well, and we need not talk about that. Dazzle was with me for many beautiful years.
She got caught in a tangle of electrical wires and died of starvation. I did not hear her cries because I have to leave the TV loud. It's the only way I can hear what Jessica or Matlock are saying these days. This keepsake reminds me of my sweet, sweet friend and the day she hatched.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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