We got Meow for my son just after he his the big one year mark. It has now become a family tradition to take our kids to Build-A-Bear when they turn one, and my son was the one to set it. We thought we would get him something cute. Another toy for the stack. Little did we know that the fluffy, sparkly snow leopard he chose, stuffed, and fluffed would become a permanent part of our family.
Now tatty, tattered, and loved beyond understanding...
Three years later, and Meow Merritt is the cat we never had.
Meow's voice box recently died. Too much meowing for this kitty. Luckily, my good friend Tiffany knows how to sew (Okay, I am artsy. But sewing was the art form that never, ever stuck.) She came over today to perform a voice box transplant on Meow.
My son hovered over her the entire time. Holding Meow's hand. Talking to Meow. Kissing the heart and putting it back in. By the time the surgery was over, he was beaming as he held his Meow and heard her actually say 'meow' for the first time in too long.
What a moment to capture.
We forget that reality is all objective to children. A cat doesn't have to be living, breathing, and shedding to be one of the most important pets (and friends) in the world. How fun and touching it is to take a moment and capture this world in a photograph. To remind them years down the road that the ratty cat toy sitting dusty on their shelf used to be their best friend in the entire world.
I wonder if my imaginary friends miss me.
Goodness, I love this little boy. I love his imagination. His excitement for life. His adventure and spirit.
And yes, I love Meow.
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