(Disclaimer: Before and after you read this, my Heroes, please know that we really DO believe that pets of all types are amazingly extraordinary, life-affirming and life-saving members of our family.)
My Heroes, there's something you should know about us. We don’t have the typical pets in our home. No. You won’t find dogs (though I love them), or cats (allergic), or birds. Nope. Not here, my Heroes. Here you won’t find fish, or lizards, no soft, fuzzy bunnies or gerbils. No, in our house, you will find something so much greater than these. In our home, you might reasonably argue that our pets are akin to some type of elementary-school science experiment gone awry. Yes, in our home you will find…..
A pet potato named, Ernie. Yes, I said potato. Ernie is nearing three months of age, which, I’m told, in potato years is close to 100. Some say he looks great for his age; others lament over his extra sprouts and wrinkles or his mushy sides that seem to come with age.
Ernie’s life is a simple one, but a cold one. He resides in that small compartment on the door of our refrigerator. You know that one….that one that you’re not 100% certain of its purpose: it could be for butter if we actually used butter; or it could be for cheese (but we needed a bigger space for our cheese); or it could be for those odd bits and pieces that we simply don’t have a place for in our fridge. It’s just one of those spaces.
Ernie lays in one corner of this special space, keeping company with the three varied cardboard containers of Laughing Cow cheeses that are no longer popular in the mouths of my babes, a small container of mystery sauce invented by my daughter at some point (though since we don’t know when, we are all too afraid to test it), and a long-since-used jar of hot-&-sweet mustard whose purpose is simply to take up enough space that Ernie doesn’t go flying every time the door swings open. He wears his turquoise paper “Catchin’ Some Zs” pajamas, surrounded by a white scarf with black mustaches twitching and tittering from time to time.
With a permanent look of surprise etched onto his earthy complexion and arms of sucker sticks reaching for that non-existent hug, Ernie seems to constantly be looking for companionship upon every door-opening experience he encounters (which, depending on the day, can be many or few). And, while we do check on Ernie from time to time, gaze upon his ruddy features, check for additional mushiness, and maybe even speak a word or two of endearment, we don’t dare to actually move this precious potato pet for fear of advancing his aging process to the point of ground-return.
So it is that our precious Ernie, pet potato extraordinaire, who came to us as a ‘gift’ from a school-friend, saved from mashed-Thanksgiving fates unknown, spends his days (and nights), keeping us company in his loneliness and producing those ever-present looks of mixed care and concern from friends and family alike (care for the heart that keeps this unique pet alive in her life and concern for the sanity of those who dare to house a pet potato in the first place).
Keeping our ‘spuddy’ (spud + buddy) company in the realm of rare, yet creative pets was ‘Squishy.’ Squishy, a treasured water-balloon-pet whose lifespan made that of a fly seem eternal, was born one Friday afternoon at school. The product of a friendship built on the common desire to protect and care for (rather than toss and pop) their water-balloon-babe, Squishy’s bright-orange, rubbery complexion somehow reminded his ‘parents’ of an onion. (Yes, I’m STILL trying to figure THAT one out…I have no words. None.)
In his all-too-short lifetime in the world of pets, Squishy managed to live life to the fullest. He took a trip to the other side of the hill for a special dinner where he sprung a leak. He was carefully mended with great tenderness and affection, then placed in a comfortable glass bowl, seated upon a table whereby, with his vantage point, he could gaze upon his owner who was flailing and running about in successful attempts to entertain.
At some point in the evening, Squishy developed two eyes and a smile, so cute as to engender a few ‘ahs’ and ‘oh-how-cutes’ from onlookers. He quietly took in his surroundings, smiling all the while, and seemed to sigh every-so-often with the contented feeling one gets when realizing how much there is to live for. A few times throughout the night, it seemed Squishy’s life might be in danger, but his ever-protective owner saved the day again and again.
Once home, it appeared that Squishy’s leak needed a bandaid change. While carefully removing one bandage, but, regrettably, before another could be whisked into place, poor Squishy splattered to his death, managing to leave his mark upon dressers, clothing, random pieces of paper, Lego pieces, and bubbled carpet, along with his devastated owner.
The passion with which his owner mourned Squishy’s sudden loss was simply overwhelming. With tears streaming down his face, he cried out, “Squishy! Nooooooooooo!” and for a good 20 minutes following, “I miss him already! His adorable face. His cute smile. How he squished in my hands. He was as important to me as any person. Squissshhhhhheeeeee!!!!” Heaving-shoulder-shaking sobs erupted from a place deep within and funeral plans were made.
You see, in this very short time-span, our precious pet Squishy had managed to push his way into his owner’s heart, leaving a hole where there was once a balloon filled with the water of life.
Yes, in our home, you won’t find those typical, common, perhaps in some comparative ways, ‘boring’ pets. You will, however, find the most amazing thing of all; something far greater than beloved pets of the more ordinary (though, yes, always extraordinary) type; in our home, my Heroes, you will find…..
IMAGINATIONS unbound by society’s ‘shoulds’ and ‘shouldn’ts.’ And that, my Heroes, is a pet that, once born, can truly live forever.
Our imaginations live on in the Ernies and Squishies of our world; in the words written and still waiting to be born; on the tips of our spirit and the shelves of our souls.
Do something, my Heroes, this week, to bring alive your ‘pet’ imaginations. In doing so, you may find compassion, passion, and love where you least expect it.
Try it on for size and share.
In honor of the Ernies and in memory of the Squishies in our lives,
Lora Ackermann
Imagination Hero Trainer
My Heroes, there's something you should know about us. We don’t have the typical pets in our home. No. You won’t find dogs (though I love them), or cats (allergic), or birds. Nope. Not here, my Heroes. Here you won’t find fish, or lizards, no soft, fuzzy bunnies or gerbils. No, in our house, you will find something so much greater than these. In our home, you might reasonably argue that our pets are akin to some type of elementary-school science experiment gone awry. Yes, in our home you will find…..
A pet potato named, Ernie. Yes, I said potato. Ernie is nearing three months of age, which, I’m told, in potato years is close to 100. Some say he looks great for his age; others lament over his extra sprouts and wrinkles or his mushy sides that seem to come with age.
Ernie’s life is a simple one, but a cold one. He resides in that small compartment on the door of our refrigerator. You know that one….that one that you’re not 100% certain of its purpose: it could be for butter if we actually used butter; or it could be for cheese (but we needed a bigger space for our cheese); or it could be for those odd bits and pieces that we simply don’t have a place for in our fridge. It’s just one of those spaces.
Ernie lays in one corner of this special space, keeping company with the three varied cardboard containers of Laughing Cow cheeses that are no longer popular in the mouths of my babes, a small container of mystery sauce invented by my daughter at some point (though since we don’t know when, we are all too afraid to test it), and a long-since-used jar of hot-&-sweet mustard whose purpose is simply to take up enough space that Ernie doesn’t go flying every time the door swings open. He wears his turquoise paper “Catchin’ Some Zs” pajamas, surrounded by a white scarf with black mustaches twitching and tittering from time to time.
With a permanent look of surprise etched onto his earthy complexion and arms of sucker sticks reaching for that non-existent hug, Ernie seems to constantly be looking for companionship upon every door-opening experience he encounters (which, depending on the day, can be many or few). And, while we do check on Ernie from time to time, gaze upon his ruddy features, check for additional mushiness, and maybe even speak a word or two of endearment, we don’t dare to actually move this precious potato pet for fear of advancing his aging process to the point of ground-return.
So it is that our precious Ernie, pet potato extraordinaire, who came to us as a ‘gift’ from a school-friend, saved from mashed-Thanksgiving fates unknown, spends his days (and nights), keeping us company in his loneliness and producing those ever-present looks of mixed care and concern from friends and family alike (care for the heart that keeps this unique pet alive in her life and concern for the sanity of those who dare to house a pet potato in the first place).
Keeping our ‘spuddy’ (spud + buddy) company in the realm of rare, yet creative pets was ‘Squishy.’ Squishy, a treasured water-balloon-pet whose lifespan made that of a fly seem eternal, was born one Friday afternoon at school. The product of a friendship built on the common desire to protect and care for (rather than toss and pop) their water-balloon-babe, Squishy’s bright-orange, rubbery complexion somehow reminded his ‘parents’ of an onion. (Yes, I’m STILL trying to figure THAT one out…I have no words. None.)
In his all-too-short lifetime in the world of pets, Squishy managed to live life to the fullest. He took a trip to the other side of the hill for a special dinner where he sprung a leak. He was carefully mended with great tenderness and affection, then placed in a comfortable glass bowl, seated upon a table whereby, with his vantage point, he could gaze upon his owner who was flailing and running about in successful attempts to entertain.
At some point in the evening, Squishy developed two eyes and a smile, so cute as to engender a few ‘ahs’ and ‘oh-how-cutes’ from onlookers. He quietly took in his surroundings, smiling all the while, and seemed to sigh every-so-often with the contented feeling one gets when realizing how much there is to live for. A few times throughout the night, it seemed Squishy’s life might be in danger, but his ever-protective owner saved the day again and again.
Once home, it appeared that Squishy’s leak needed a bandaid change. While carefully removing one bandage, but, regrettably, before another could be whisked into place, poor Squishy splattered to his death, managing to leave his mark upon dressers, clothing, random pieces of paper, Lego pieces, and bubbled carpet, along with his devastated owner.
The passion with which his owner mourned Squishy’s sudden loss was simply overwhelming. With tears streaming down his face, he cried out, “Squishy! Nooooooooooo!” and for a good 20 minutes following, “I miss him already! His adorable face. His cute smile. How he squished in my hands. He was as important to me as any person. Squissshhhhhheeeeee!!!!” Heaving-shoulder-shaking sobs erupted from a place deep within and funeral plans were made.
You see, in this very short time-span, our precious pet Squishy had managed to push his way into his owner’s heart, leaving a hole where there was once a balloon filled with the water of life.
Yes, in our home, you won’t find those typical, common, perhaps in some comparative ways, ‘boring’ pets. You will, however, find the most amazing thing of all; something far greater than beloved pets of the more ordinary (though, yes, always extraordinary) type; in our home, my Heroes, you will find…..
IMAGINATIONS unbound by society’s ‘shoulds’ and ‘shouldn’ts.’ And that, my Heroes, is a pet that, once born, can truly live forever.
Our imaginations live on in the Ernies and Squishies of our world; in the words written and still waiting to be born; on the tips of our spirit and the shelves of our souls.
Do something, my Heroes, this week, to bring alive your ‘pet’ imaginations. In doing so, you may find compassion, passion, and love where you least expect it.
Try it on for size and share.
In honor of the Ernies and in memory of the Squishies in our lives,
Lora Ackermann
Imagination Hero Trainer