Dead Pets by Holly Dennis

DEAD PETS

INTRODUCTION Emotional Roles of Pets Are Pets Part of the Family?

PET CEMETERIES & CREMATION Animal Gravestones Pets in Peace DNA2 Diamonds

TAXIDERMY The Arrangement of Skin My Pet has died and I’m thinking about Taxidermy Why do you have Taxidermy in your House? Never Have Your Dog Stuffed Taxidermy Artist: Polly Morgan

FREEZE-DRY PETS Mr. Eddy’s Wildlife Studio Pet Preservation How does it work? Pet Cryonics Objects of Rememberance

After a pet has passed and following the termoil of death the most important question we face is â&#x20AC;&#x153;What will happen to the body?â&#x20AC;?

EMOTIONAL ROLES OF PETS There is a definite feeling of kinship between humans and animals that explains why people devote so much money, time, and emotional stamina to dogs and cats. The psychological and emotional roles played by pets in the urban household are examined through telephone interviews conducted with 320 pet owners and 116 nonowners. Respondents were obtained randomly. Sociodemographic differences exist between pet owners and those who do not have pets. Remarried people, families with children present, and families in the middle stages of the life cycle are most likely to have pets, whereas pet ownership is low among widows, emptynesters, families with infants, and those with annual in-comes of £8,000 or less. Responses to the survey indicate that pets are viewed as important family members by people who live in the city and the roles played by pets are related to the social structure of the household. Attachment to pets is highest among never-married, divorced, widowed and remarried people, childless couples, newlyweds, and empty-nesters. Never-married, divorced, and remarried people, and people without children present, are also most likely to anthropomorphize their pets. Pet attachment and anthropomorphism are also related to type of pet. Both dimensions of pet-human bonds are highest among people who have dogs as they are said to have certain personalities. Veterinary bills in the United Kingdom exceed £3 billion per year. Veterinarians estimate the lifelong cost of owning an 80-pound dog at £8,353, a 10-pound dog at £3,525, and a cat at £3,957. These figures are for city pets and include licensing, grooming, veterinary costs. One respondant of the survey, admited having passed childbearing age, she displays littleremorse. “I don’t mind if I didn’t have children,” she states in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “I have Margaret and Sparky.” To this woman, as to so many other it seems that companion animals have become not just child substitutes, but the real thing.

Introduction

ANNUAL SPEND:

£3 BILLION

FEEDING DOGS AND CATS

£1.8 BILLION ON BABY FOOD

ARE PETS FAMILY MEMBERS? Respondents of the telephone interview were asked to rate, on a scale of 1 to 5, the extent to which their favorite pet is a member of the family. A score of 5 on the scale indicates that the pet is “very much” a family member, whereas a 1 reflects the opinion that the pet is “not at all” a member of the family. Eighty-seven percent of the urban pet owners rate the extent of their pet’s membership in the family as either a 5 (48.8%) or a 4 (38.1%). Thus, the vast majority of our urban respondents view pets as family members. Pets in particular relieve loneliness for the elderly and become like children to them. People often need to feel needed and when human lives feel empty, pets are available to fill them. Pets provide a somewhat nostalgic set of old-fashioned comforts. They make long-term bonds with their human companions; they rarely run off with others; they are almost always pleased to see “their” humans; their apparent love is unconditional (and therefore secured) and they give the strong impression that they need humans as much as humans need them. Many of us admit our animal companions into the most intimate areas of our lives. We are not in the least embarrassed when a dog sees us in the shower or overhears an argument. In this, a companion animal provides an intimacy that exceeds any we may experience with virtually any other human being, including our spouses and children; the intimacy is on a par with that of mother and newborn infant, or of our own skins. The family system is certainly altered by the death of a pet, issues of intimacy and loyalty can be raised between remaining members of the system.

Introduction

87% 7

PET CEMETERIES & CREMATION

ANIMAL GRAVESTONES It is in the domain of death both death of the animal and death of the owner that the humananimal bond often manifests itself most overtly. The very existence of pet cemeteries indicates a deep emotional connection to dogs, cats, and other companion animals. This human animal bond is a kind of emotional crutch. There exists a large pet mortuary industry offering everything from a funeral, a grave site and cemetery services through to bereavement counseling. These businesses are thriving on the increased emotional dependence on pets. By burying their animals in a public cemetery, pet owners not only demonstrate extraordinary devotion to these animals, but also attribute to the creatures a degree of sacredness not accorded to other beasts. Indeed, many bereaved owners would say that their animals have souls and that these souls live on after death. It is likely that burials at pet cemeteries were originally a privilege of the wealthy and of celebrities. Hence, by the 1920s in New York, Hartsdale Pet Cemetery became known as â&#x20AC;&#x153;the place where the very rich and very famous buried their pets. Large and elaborate monuments marked the graves of ampered pets. Today, there are few clear-cut financial barriers, and certainly no class barriers to pet cemetery interment. Given the burial and cremation options open to pet owners, burial falls within the budget of most families wishing to bury the pet in a formal setting. Monuments through to photographs and text on pet graves, show that pet owners increasingly consider their companion animals to be actual members of their human family. Animal surnames, too, provide important cues to feelings of family or kin ship. Since the 1980s, dogs, cats, and even birds have acquired the surnames of their owners, as registered on gravestones. This innovation in monument design nearly converts the animals symbolically into blood relatives.

Pet Cemeteries

My cat Bobby died after twelve years of some illness, we buried him in the garden after he was cremated.

My hamster Fluff died of old age, my dad told me he buried him but really he just put him in the bin.

Fish jumped out the bowl, dried up and then someone stood on him.

Connie had cancer.

Nibbles died of old age, she hibernated woke up then decided to call it a day.

Scowley the fish died because my mum didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t change the water.

China got run over.

My parents didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tell me how Alice Cooper died.

Bony died of a heart attack after Honey the dog played with her too hard, the dog lives on to this day.

PETS IN PEACE Pets In Peace is a pet crematorium located in South Wales, founded in 1990 at the suggestion of a local vet. Why do you think people have their pets cremated? I think it’s really so they can have a little something back, we do individual cremation where people can have their ashes returned. People like to have them, they scatter the ashes or they have them back in the house and they put them in their favorite spot. But I think people just want to do the best thing for them, its exactly the same you would as a human cremetorium. It’s really up to the individual what they do with the ashes. Where do you cremate them? Next door, you can’t go in though due to health and safety. I had an inspection yesterday from DEFRA. We’re under DEFRA. and I actually had to ring through to health and safety, because the machines were in operation, I had to get through from health and safety to actually allow DEFRA to go in, beacause of the extreme temperatutres. The pets are cremated in about three to four hours, in order for the ash to be completely burned. All the machines are all monitered through emissions, it’s not quite as easy as just lighting a fire. What kind of customers do you get? All sorts. We get kids, little ones bringing their hamster because it’s their first pet. We take horses, but we only do companion animals. 95% of our work comes from the vets. Have you had any of your pets cremated? Yes, we keep some in the house and some are buried in the garden.

Pet Cemeteries

Do you provide a funeral service? People bring their pets to us here and we lay them here for them, then they have as much time as they wish. Some people come in and lay them down, fill out the forms for us and say thank you very much and walk away and then sometimes people will be here for an hour and a half to two hours, to say goodbye and cant goodbye. This is our chapel of rest same as you would in a human cremetorium. How do you feel about pet taxidermy? We have had it asked, I do know a very good taxidermist but he doesn’t like doing them, but he has done. We don’t get involved in that though we just give them the number. He does a lot of wild animals, stag’s heads and foxes but he says you’ve just got a picture of a pheasant or a fox, an idea of a fox. When he has to do a pet, people go ‘awwh he didn’t quite lie like that’ and it is expensive about eight to twelve hundred pound and it takes a long time. Is it difficult dealing with the customers and their grief ? It can be, we see a lot of tears. It’s one of those situations where you’re detatched a little bit from the pet, it’s not your pet. It’s different if it’s your pet and you come down every morning and he’s there by the fire or whatever. It effects everyone in different ways. We get young girls coming here and they come and they say sorry and whatever and they walk away, and then we get middle aged men who have had their pet for a long time and break down and cannot come to terms with it at all. We’ve had policemen come and bring their sniffer dogs, their german shepards and they sit there and they break their hearts. Then they come back then in three or four days to collect the animal’s ashes and they say ‘D’you know what, I’ve seen atrocities. I broke down.’ We can have a preacher come in if they wish.

You’re detached from it. You have to be.

Pet Cemeteries

DNA2 DIAMONDS DNA2Diamonds creates memorial diamonds from the ashes of pets to remember them. The following information is displayed on their website. Losing a pet is more than losing an animal; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s losing your companion, your friend, a part of your family. Whether they were loyal defenders, prizewinning champions or quiet companions, their presence provided irreplaceable comfort, selfless friendship and unconditional love. Remember love of your companionâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s devotion in a diamond from ashes or hair as a lasting tribute. Custom created from your pet ashes or hair, our one-of-a-kind diamonds are a lasting tribute to their devotion. With your one-of-a-kind Pet Memories diamond, you can smile blissfully as you remember those walks in the park, horrible messes that they made and then their look of begging for forgiveness, how they comforted you while you were sick, or got mad if you left them for a vacation, their best-in-show achievements, or the quiet moments simply enjoying each othersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; company. Our man made diamonds are a way to forever remember and celebrate the special bond that will always exist between us and our devoted pets. We have various fancy color diamonds that come in different cuts and sizes.

Find the comfort that DNA2Diamonds has already given to so many grieving pet owners.

Pet Cemeteries

I can now have something that has

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DNA

Pet Cemeteries

TAXIDERMY

THE ARRANGEMENT OF SKIN Our animal companions share our emotional lives; we endow them with the sentiments, intelligence, and dignity usually reserved for humans. And because our relationship with pets is so intimate, it is all the more unsettling when a bereft owner decides to have a deceased pet stuffed. Some might argue that the desire to stuff a pet reveals a heartfelt attachment that surpasses the typical human-animal relationship. On the other hand, retaining and re-animating the body of a beloved pet would seem to elevate the owner’s emotions over any respect due to the animal. Are stuffed pets surrounded by an eerie aura of control and ownership? Or is this a rare example of science coming to the aid of our emotional world? The trend of keeping animals as pets and not just as working companions first became popular among the general public in the nineteenth-century during which time the techniques of taxidermy itself became well known and available to a wide audience. The Victorians loved death relics; it was common to carry a few hairs of a loved one in a locket worn around the neck or to keep some other lasting material vestige of a lover or celebrated hero. Percy Shelley’s heart was dried. Lord Nelson’s body was pickled in alcohol. The idea was that “objects are imbued with a lasting sentiment of their owners, one that can be kept in a box or encased behind glass,” as Judith Pascoe writes in The Hummingbird Cabinet: A Rare and Curious History of Romantic Collectors. Preserving pets reveals a similar inclination. When famous animals died in nineteenth century zoos and menageries, they were frequently stuffed and exhibited in natural history museums where they drew curious visitors not as mute examples of their species but as famous personalities.

Perhaps it is the extraordinary range of their vivid colouring or maybe it is their ability to “talk” to us, to mimic our sounds, to break the monotony of human voices. “Parrots inhabit our cultures because they invade our imaginations,” Paul Carter explains in Parrot. “They represent the uncleared jungle of wish fulfilment. They populate a world where all parts speak to one another, and no transformation is prohibited.” But why are we so fascinated with the idea of parrots talking to us? Carter considers the question: “when we put parrots in cages and teach them to talk, it’s a fantasy of communication with ourselves that we indulge. And something else (far more disturbing): if, as they say, parrots only talk in captivity, what would be the consequence of setting them free? It would not be a triumph for the conservation movement ... but the discovery that all this time we had been talking to ourselves.” Do pets gives us the freedom to talk to ourselves? Derived from the Greek words for arrangement or order, taxis, and skin, derma, the word taxidermy literally means the arrangement of skin. The practice of stuffing and preparing skins of animals and birds, however, has never been a dispassionate and pragmatic process of assembly. The reasons for displaying a dead animal are as various as the fauna put on view: to flaunt a hunter’s skill, to immortalise a cherished pet, to collect an archive of the world, to commemorate an experience, to document extinct or endangered species, to decorate a wall, to amuse, to educate, to fascinate, to horrify, to delight, and even to deceive.

The history of pet-keeping offers strange insights into the emotional realms of societies. What makes particular animals particularly loved? Parrots, for example, have been our constant companions.

Taxidermy

Taxidermied beasts have a lot to say about our definitions of the natural world. Whether as a source of delight or revulsion, taxidermy reveals as much about our collective daydreams and desires as it does about death and domination: sometimes the most unlikely objects offer the most eloquent commentaries. But then, this all seemed far less interesting to me than getting to the heart of those desires and daydreams which make people want to preserve parts of the death. As death is enigmatic so too are souvenirs of the dead. Locks of hair, row upon row of hummingbirds, embalmed saints, preserved pets, stuffed kittens dressed in wedding gowns â&#x20AC;&#x201C; these are potent things that transcend their particular cultural and historical moment. They offer an encounter with life and death, fear and hope, and various strange longings that have become, I argue, literally embodied in their forms.

Skills

Committment to a high standard of work Excellent knowledge of animal anatomy Be comfortable working on your own Passion for nature and wildlife Good hand-eye coordination Creativity and artistic flair Strong attention to detail Problem-solving skills Manual dexterity Good eyesight Patience

Taxidermy

MY PET HAS DIED AND I’M THINKING ABOUT TAXIDERMY Information regarding pet taxidermy from taxidermist Philip Leggett. Working on pets is unlike any other area of the Taxidermists work because of the intense emotions involved after the death of a much loved Pet. A sensitive and caring approach must be taken as people can, quite understandably, be in a distressed and highly emotional state when they first call in or phone about having their Pet set up. Pet taxidermy is also far more demanding both technically artistically and emotionally than “wild animal” work. It is for these reasons that many taxidermists will decline to do pets. Only rarely do people plan in advance to have their pet set up. In the majority of cases (at least in my experience) people only consider taxidermy as an option in the hours after their pet has died. They will be upset and often confused about the best choice to make over the fate of their pet. They often do not wish to be parted from the mortal remains and find the prospect frightening and upsetting. Many feel under pressure to decide quickly on how to proceed. The options are usually as follows: They can leave him/her at the Veterinary practice (as for most pets these days euthanasia is the preferred option to minimise any suffering for the animal) They can take their pet home for burial, go to a Pet cemetery or have it cremated. Finally they can seek out the services of a taxidermist and approach him or her to enquire about having their pet set up. There is also an added pressure; that of time, as the deceased pet will begin to decompose rapidly if action is not taken to arrest the process by means of refrigeration or deep freezing.

Cost is another major consideration. Good quality pet taxidermy can be prohibitively expensive. It may also be pertinent to mention at this point that the size of an animal is not necessarily an indicator of the price. Nor is a comparison with the price of a similar sized “wild” animal. Each pet must be considered carefully as each one is highly individual, requiring different techniques and treatment to complete it. Faced with this confusing array of decisions people can feel “rushed” in to a decision that they may later regret. They may rush in to having their pet set up and later regret the decision, causing great embarrassment and anger on both sides, or they may bury or cremate their pet in haste only to wish they had been able to find a taxidermist able to set up their pet. Q. My pet has died and I am thinking about taxidermy as an option. What should I do next? Put your pet somewhere very cold. Preferably, in a deep freeze or refrigerator. Failing that, on a cold concrete floor (this is very important as warmth causes the body to deteriorate very quickly. If your pet has been euthanized by a vet, then you may be able to store it for a time at the Vets. Most vets have several large chest freezers and will usually store the pet (sometimes for a fee) whilst you make a decision. Q. Is my pet suitable for taxidermy? It is VERY important to understand that not all animals whether wild or pets will be suitable for taxidermy. The condition of the animal at the time of its death is critical to the outcome. Even the most skilled taxidermist cannot make a very old or ill animal appear healthy and young again.

Taxidermy

£1200 for a cat

£1500 - £3000 for a small dog

If you have any doubts about pet taxidermy then I would strongly advise against it.

Pets that are old and/or in ill health when they die are usually in very bad condition; they may be losing their fur, feathers or hair. They may have lost or gained weight or have injuries and scarring from accidents or illness. Also too much time may have elapsed since it died. 24 hrs would be considered borderline. Environmental conditions are also a factor the colder the body is stored the better.

If, after our initial discussion and my preliminary examination your pet is deemed suitable as a potential taxidermy subject I may then place your pet in frozen storage for a minimum “adjustment period” of 5-8 weeks. The purpose of this adjustment period is to allow you, the pet’s owner, sufficient time to reflect on and consider the full implications both financially and emotionally of the taxidermy option and come to a rational and informed choice bearing in mind all the pros and cons. If, after that period, you decide not to go ahead then I will be happy to return your pet to you for burial or cremation. You are under no pressure whatsoever to choose taxidermy for your pet. If you are not absolutely certain then don’t do it. Only after this 5-8 week period has expired and you have contacted me and stated with conviction that you have decided on taxidermy for your pet, can we move to the next stage. We would then need to go through the matter in some more detail. I would ask you for some background information on your pet. We would also need to consider the position you would like your pet modelled in as, once completed, this is irreversible and permanent. I would require as many recent photos as possible to help me get a sense of how your pet behaved and particularly its character and expression and favourite resting position. I normally recommend that a pet be set up in a resting repose as this will help to convey a sense of peace and restfulness. Q. What should I expect? Your expectations must be realistic and based on a calm, rational assessment of what exactly you are entering into when choosing taxidermy. If your pet was old and ill and had lost weight when it passed then this is how it will appear in the completed work.

Taxidermy

No taxidermist, no matter how skilled, can make the old young or the ill appear healthy. Taxidermy is a long and involved process and, without being graphic, it is important to state that the process means that a finished mount is hard to the touch, the pose cannot be altered in any way and the eyes, though very realistic and anatomically accurate, are glass. Areas if skin with little or no hair or fur may show stitching which is part of the process. The older and the more ill the pet the less satisfactory the result can be. Q. How much does it cost? As stated above the actual costs are highly specific to each animal; the species, age, breed, size, pose required and condition of the animal are all factors which can affect the cost to greater or lesser degree. As a rough guide to pricing I charge from £1200 for a cat and from £1500 to £3000 for a small to medium dog. For larger dogs up to Alsatian/ Lab size I would need to consult with the client and assess the animal. I would require a deposit of 40% of the final cost before actually commencing working on your pet.

WHY DO YOU HAVE TAXIDERMY IN YOUR HOUSE? An interview with taxidermy owner Imogen Clowes. Some of them we inherited and some of them my family killed, hunting or shooting or fishing. And some of them we have found in old fashioned sort of antique shops, bricka-brack shops I suppose and they’re beautiful so we bought them.

Taxidermy

My brother is very keen on taxidermy because he likes animals. The majority of them are in his room. My grandfather’s house was flooded and we found this little fish and thats all that was left of it and we had it taxidermied to remember the date, its got a little plaque on it and its in my downstairs barthroom. Do you have any pets? Pets yes, two dogs, two cats, two horses, eight chickens and ten ducks. I think that’s it. After previous pets have died what have you done with them? We buried them in the garden, which is illegal. It’s illegal to bury horses, because it can spread disease. Would u consider stuffing your pet? Yes, we havn’t done it though, but I would. I would do the chickens or the ducks, but not the dogs. I have a more personal human-like relationship with them, and that would upset me, whereas the ducks are working animals and they are very beautiful and they are not all named, there is less of a personal relationship but they’re still pets. Why not your dogs? Do you think it’s the human like quality that stops you from stuffing your pets? It would be too much of a reminder, walking into the room and seeing if it’s alive, it reminds you, you do a double take, whereas a chicken or a duck would be more like an ornament. With foxes, its a point of pride, and how beautiful they are. Yeh it’s dead and thats a bit sad, but your celebrating what it is and the beauty of the animal. It’s a mark of respect. As you have taxidermy in your house do you consider it homely? or comforting? I don’t consider it a comfort, its more of a decorative thing, like an ornament, we dont have them in our rooms. My brother has more in his room but not where he sleeps. We dont have them in the intimate family rooms they’re in the rooms we have our guests in, and the hallway.

Taxidermy

With foxes, it’s a point of pride, and how beautiful they are. Yeh it’s dead and that’s a bit sad, but you’re celebrating what it is and the beauty of the animal. It’s a mark of respect.

WE DON’T HAVE THEM IN THE INTIMATE FAMILY ROOMS THEY’RE IN THE ROOMS WE HAVE OUR GUESTS IN.

NEVER HAVE YOUR DOG STUFFED An extract from Alan Alda’s ‘Never Have Your Dog Stuffed: And Other Things I’ve Learned.’ Alda recounts his experience of having his dog Rhapsody returned to him. With the first shovelful I burst into tears and with every shovelful I cried louder and harder. We finally had an open pit in the ground, and I was uncontrollable; My father didn’t know what to do. He looked away helplessly. I let the shovel drop and stood with my hands at my sides, sobbing. After a moment, he turned to me and said, “Maybe we should have the dog stuffed.” I looked up at him. I wondered what he was talking about. “Stuff the dog?” “We could take him to a taxidermist and have him stuffed. You want to do that? That way you could always keep him.” If it didn’t involve putting the dog in the ground and starting in with the shovels again, it sounded good to me. “Okay”, I said. “Let’s stuff him.” So we took the dog to a taxidermist. We entered a dark store on Hollywood Boulevard, and I walked in through an eerie menagerie. There were dozens of birds – black birds, blue birds, somebody’s parakeet – all dead, standing on branches. A squirrel stood on a velvet-covered board, tail at high alert, and a quizzical look on his face. The taxidermist put a studious and professional look on his own face. He wanted to know what our dog looked like. Did we have any snapshots? What kind of expression did he usually have? I tried to think about this but I couldn’t remember any expression he was particularly known for. I’d never paid attention to my dog’s emotional life. I thought all dogs had pretty much the same expression – a kind of dogginess common to all of them. My father and I launched haltingly into an effort to describe our dog’s expression.

We came up with vague abstractions. He was a nice dog. He had a nice expression on his face. After a discreet pause the taxidermist said he’d call us when the job was finished. It took six weeks to stuff the dog. By the time he came back from the taxidermist’s shop, I hadn’t forgotten him completely, but he was certainly not something I thought about every day. We pulled off the brown butcher’s paper he was wrapped in and looked at him. The dog had a totally unrecognizable expression on his face. He looked as if had seen something loathsome that needed to be shredded. Nobody in our family knew who this was. He sat on his blue velvet board, looking up at us like something with rabies. We were kind of afraid of him. My parents made excuses for the taxidermist. He didn’t really know the dog; he did the best he could. We’ll get used to the look on his face. We put what now passed for our dog in the living room near the fireplace. But after a couple of days, it became difficult to walk into the room without feeling that a wild animal was going to spring at you. You were aware, out of the corner of your eye, that there was something alive but perfectly still in the room, and then you would see those glass eyes staring at you and the vicious mouth, hungry for your flesh. When guests visited, if we didn’t warn them that the dog wasn’t real, they’d walk into the room and stand dead still. Sometimes they would back slowly out of the room, trying to escape before it leapt at their throat. We realized we couldn’t keep him in the living room, so we put him outside on the front porch – not far in fact, from where he’d died. The trouble now was that deliverymen were afraid to make deliveries. They would leave packages on the grass. Losing the dog wasn’t as bad as getting him back.

Taxidermy

H E WA S A

NICE DOG. HE HAD A NICE EXPRESSION O N H I S FA C E . 31

LOSING THE DOG WASN’T

AS BAD AS

GETTING HIM BACK

Now that he was stuffed, he was just a hollow parody of himself. Like a bad nose job or a pair of eyes set surgically in eternal surprise, he was a reminder that things would never again be the way they were. And the longer you looked at his dead skin stretched inaccurately over a wire frame, the less well you could remember him as he was. As time went on my memory of the real Rhapsody was replaced by the image of him sitting lifeless on the blue velvet board with a hideous look on his face. And anyway it wasn’t memories I wanted, I wanted the dog. I wanted him sitting at the end of our first day in the new house, patiently watching my face while I pulled foxtail burrs from the fur on his long ears. Yet the effort to keep him has seemed to make him disappear even more. I couldn’t understand why. I kept asking the same questions “why is it like this? What’s happening here? But I couldn’t figure it out. I understand it a little better now, and I see now that stuffing your dog is more than what happens when you take a dead body and turn it into a souvenir. It’s also what happens when you hold on to any living moment longer than it wants you to. Memory can be a kind of mental taxidermy, trying to hold on to the present after it’s become the past. I didn’t know this then.

The longer you looked at his dead skin stretched inaccurately over a wire frame, the less well you could remember him as he was.

Taxidermy

ARTIST: POLLY MORGAN Polly Morgan only did a one-day taxidermy course on a whim, after she was decorating a flat and couldn’t find any stuffed animals she liked on eBay. After being cajoled into showing some pieces at her friends’ bar opening in 2004 and then at another friend’s stand at the Zoo Art Fair, where her work – a rat curled in a champagne glass – was sold before the fair even opened, she gradually came to terms with her new profession. “It wasn’t a conscious thing where I thought, ‘I want to be the weirdo,’” says Morgan, a pretty blonde whose delicate physique and painted nails are countered by a quiet but steely assuredness in her manner. The work itself is careful, exquisite and dark. She has made robins draped across prayer books under tiny chandeliers, lovebirds gazing at their reflections in miniature mirrors above tiny splayed-out mouse rugs, as well as wilting pheasant chicks suspended from resin-coated balloons, which were produced as an edition for Damien Hirst’s shop-cum-gallery, Other Criteria. “As a kid I bred hamsters,” she remembers. “I’d get one of them pregnant and she’d have loads of little ones and they’d be running around in the bath. They’d quite regularly die – the mother would eat them, or they’d get squashed under something, or the cat would break in and pull the cage down, and we’d come back and there’d be a decapitated hamster on the floor. I’d probably seen a bit more of that than most people.” She describes the family home as “kind of chaotic” with “millions of animals around”. As well as the “normal ones” – cats, dogs, chickens and the accident-prone hamsters – Morgan and her two older sisters became well acquainted with the exotic

livestock their entrepreneurial father decided to breed after renting fields from local farmers. “He had 200 goats at one point, and llamas, and ostriches – he thought the BSE crisis would mean ostriches were the new thing, and he used to make me ride on the back of the llamas for his friends’ entertainment.” Their father’s farming dream had one major flaw. “When our cat died, my dad didn’t bury it for four or five days. He kept it on a slab in the garage and he’d bring it out every now and again and say, ‘Do you want to say goodbye to him again?’ It was a bit nuts. My dad was more sentimental about the animals than the rest of us, which probably meant he didn’t make a great farmer. He bought them and couldn’t let go of them because he loved them so much.” Was she fond of animals herself ? “No! That’s the funny thing. I thought they were really annoying. I had a budgie that was always flying around while you were trying to watch EastEnders. Animals to me, I suppose, were competitors for my parents’ attention. They just seemed to take up ridiculous amounts of their time.” So what she does is a bit like revenge? “Yeah,” she says with a smile, “maybe!” When she told her family about her new-found interest in taxidermy, the reaction was muted. “Everyone was a bit taken aback when I had my first lesson. They thought it was a bit of a phase. I think my mum quietly thought, ‘Oh well, let’s just get this one over with and move on to something else.’ I remember texting my sister about it and just getting a text back from her saying, ‘You’re sick!’ But as soon as they realised I was pressing on with it they became very supportive. They collect dead things for me all the time. Sophie, the eldest one, is constantly sending me texts with

Taxidermy

pictures of squashed rabbits saying, ‘Shall I pick this up for you?’ She found it really difficult the first few times, but it touched me that her thought for me overrode her squeamishness.” Morgan’s stance on pets has changed lately, and indeed the first animal you come across at her studio is very much alive. Trotsky, a four-year-old black Staffordshire bull terrier she rescued from Battersea Dogs’ Home three months ago, bounds over to suss out every visitor, causing little eddies in the pigeon feathers on the floor. “He’s a sweetheart,” she says, “I’ve had such a craving for a dog for the last few years that I just caved in.” Sadly, Trotsky isn’t taking as much interest in her work as the collectors: “Apparently fresh, raw meat and uncooked bones are really good for them, but he’s the weirdest dog. He’s not interested in food. He’s chewed on the bodies but he hasn’t eaten any yet.” Morgan herself is less fussy. A few months ago, she and her boyfriend, the artist Mat Collishaw, found a recently dead fox in the road. In her work, she makes a point of only using animals that have died unpreventable deaths, be it pest control like the crows, traffic incidents like the fox, or donations from pet owners and vets. As she explains it: “a) I don’t want to get in trouble with the animal-rights nutters, and b) even though I eat meat and killing for meat is quite a natural thing to do, killing something and trying to make it look alive again is not a very natural thing to do.” As for the fox, after a bit of deliberation, she and Collishaw decided to minimise the waste and cook it – “Greasy,” is the nicest thing she can say. “I would like to start eating some of the animals I use, I just have to make the leap in my head.” Morgan’s work is certainly evolving, whether as a conscious reaction to fears of faddishness or not. The decorative, dollhouse-scale tableaux are being joined by the bolder, more abstract and more defiantly sculptural pieces, such as the giant spore-like orbs of wings that her assistants are prepping for on the other side of the room. Her newer work is perhaps less a subversion of the conventions of taxidermy — the glass domes, the life-like poses — and more an exploration of animals as a raw material.

Taxidermy

“Maybe it will become more of a conventional medium, like using clay or oil paint,” she ponders. There are certainly no immediate plans to abandon fur and feathers. “I don’t know of many artists who use taxidermy pretty much exclusively as I do, and I just haven’t exhausted it yet.” Though you feel bad for even thinking it, you can’t help but wonder if Morgan ever casts a sideways glance at Trotsky, wondering what he might look like in a decade’s time, curled in a huge champagne glass or resting – eternally – on a giant Bible. Is there a distinction between him and the pigeons in the plastic bags? “Yes, massive,” she says. “You don’t want to have known the animal.” For the same reason, and despite the rib cage in the new work, she’s not interested in doing people: “If I did a human it would just look too much like me.” She recalls her taxidermy teacher, George Jamieson, being asked by the family of a deceased Hell’s Angel to stretch the tattooed skin from the biker’s back over a canvas: “He said the idea of having a man’s torso on his desk was just too much so he turned them down.” Talking about the difficulties of identifying with her subject, Morgan illustrates the inherent paradox of taxidermy.

It forces us to confront death, but also makes us feel we can defeat it – superficially at least. She also betrays a trace of her dad’s soft-heartedness; recently, she left one of the freezers open, which happened to contain her beloved pet canary, Missy. “I’m hoping she hasn’t gone off, but I couldn’t just throw her away. That was her, she had a name.” Can she ever imagine being able to immortalise Missy in a work? “I thought maybe in years to come I won’t feel the connection any more and I’ll be able to do it. I did contemplate it recently because I needed that size of bird for the flying machine for the show, but I really didn’t want to. I thought: ‘I don’t want her to just be part of a crowd.’”

FREEZE-DRIED PETS

Your pet will natural and it will be tell any at all

the lack of 38

look very even close up difficult to difference except for

movement. 39

I do accept that some people will find it weird, but it is growing in acceptance and what we do is a fine art. 40

Freeze-dried Pets

MR EDDY’S WILDLIFE STUDIO Many owners struggle to say goodbye to their beloved pets when they pass away. But some animal lovers in America have decided they just can’t part with their furry friends and have paid up to £2,500 to get them freeze dried using space age technology. The new craze, which is becoming increasingly popular around the world, takes the idea of stuffing animals one step further by instead freezing pets to minus nine degrees while slowly removing all moisture from the bodies. Some owners wait up to seven months while their dog, cat, or even rabbit goes through the freeze drying process in a sealed vacuum chamber. The process allows owners to keep their pets around with them after they die. The pet freeze dryers even restore chronically ill pets to their former living glory by using expert grooming techniques and old photos of the cherished animal. Anthony Eddy, 63, who owns Anthony Eddy’s Wildlife Studio or AEWS in Missouri, said: ‘It is a very emotional thing for pet owners, they don’t want to bury or cremate their beloved animal, and they want them to still be around. ‘They want to have their pet around and the majority of our customers are old and have had their pet for a long time and the bond between them is strong. ‘Most of these animals are old too and have died of cancer or another debilitating illness and when we receive them they do not look their best. ‘We ask the owners for pictures of them as they would like to remember the pet and using silicone and stylings we can fill out thin rib cages, legs, faces and restore a lustre to the animal.’ Mr Eddy admitted that some may find the concept of freeze dried animals ‘weird’ but insisted it is becoming an increasingly popular art form. Owners wanting to have their pets freeze dried are given strict instructions on what to do when their pet finally dies. Mr Eddy continued:

Freeze-dried Pets

‘We ask all our customers to put their pet in a freezer within 48 hours of its death. ‘We then ask them to priority Fed-Ex or UPS the body to us, we have an arrangement with these companies and they know what they are transporting to us. ‘We have been freeze drying pets for 20 years and take customers from 48 states and even from Canada.’ The company operates 14 freeze drying chambers, including one large ten foot long one, and at any one time there are 40 pets undergoing the process at the Missouri offices. Mr Eddy said: ‘It is a very slow process freeze drying. The chamber operates at minus nine degrees celsius and over the period of up to six months the frozen moisture is slowly converted to a gaseous state and then extracted. The Wildlife Studio claims they can restore animals, such as this beagle dog, to their former glory using freeze drying technology ‘The larger the animal the larger the amount of moisture. We remove all the internal organs and fat from the insides of the pets and replace their eyes with glass. ‘We check the weight every two weeks and if the weight of the animal has not decreased after a two week gap then we know there is no more moisture left. ‘The animal is then freeze dried, just like the food they give to astronauts.’ Mr Eddy uses metal rods after the process to move the pets into the desired poses.

PET P R E S E R VAT I O N Pet Preservation, a company based in Colorado which uses a technique of freeze drying rather than traditional taxidermy. Owners can send a photograph along to ensure that their pets are posed in as lifelike a position as possible. We at Perpetual Pet know that the loss of a dearly loved pet is a very difficult experience. Through the use of new techniques in freeze dry technology, we can offer a “Loving and Lasting” alternative to burial cremation or traditional taxidermy. Freeze-dry pet preservation creates a lasting memorial and more importantly, preserves your pet in a natural state thereafter, without any alteration in appearance. This allows pet owners to see, touch and hold their pets, and in a sense, “never have to let go.” Best of all, freeze-dry pet preservation results in the preservation of your pet’s actual, physical body. This is in sharp contrast to the conventional method of taxidermy, in which only the outer hide of the animal typically remains, attached to a plastic form or other type of artificial mounting.

Perpetual Pet Reviews “I can never express my happiness & joy of having Dusty back home forever.” “She looks so peaceful and content in her own bed. Thanks so much for the work that you did with her and thanks for providing such a wonderful alternative to animal burial.” “I am so proud to have him back where I can view him everyday. This was probably the second most hardest time in my life, but knowing that he would eventually be back to me, made each day one of anticipation and hope.”

We at Perpetual Pet are also animal lovers and pet owners, offering our services exclusively for the preservation of family pets. We too lost our beloved pet of 18 years. So not only can we provide careful, quality care for your pet but personal understanding, sympathy and care for you in your time of loss. For the loving pet owner, pet preservation is truly “the perfect plan for the perfect pet.” We remove all the internal organs and fat from the insides of the pets and replace their eyes with glass.

Freeze-dried Pets

Compressor

Heated Shelves

Refridgeration Coils

Freeze-dried Pets

Vacuum Pump

HOW DOES IT WORK? FREEZING Water makes up approximately 70% of an animal’s total weight and is found mostly in the vascular and cellular parts of the body. The purpose of freezing is to achieve a thorough hardening of the specimen by freezing all the water in the body. When frozen throughout, the drying process can begin. D RY I N G Freeze-drying is a dehydrating process, accomplished under precisely controlled conditions. This procedure causes the ice within the animal to change from a solid, into a gas, bypassing the liquid stage altogether. The result is truly lifelike, the goal of all taxidermists and museum curators. The vacuum system removes almost all the air from the chamber and condenser, allowing the ice/gas molecules to move into the condenser. When all ice/ gas molecules are gone from the animal, it stops losing weight and is now thoroughly freeze-dried, and is ready to be permanently mounted on its base. HOW LONG WILL THEY LAST? The earliest freeze-dried animal was created by Dr. Harold Meryman of the Naval Medical Research Institute for the perpose of a museum exhibit. His initial use dates back to 1953 with the first published material appearing in Curator Magazine in 1960. Conventional taxidermy, as we know it today, can be traced to about 400 years ago when the first attempt on record was the preservation of birds in Holland.

In comparison, the freeze-drying of biological specimens has a much shorter past but so far most colours appear to have survived unchanged. The fat in current freeze-dried specimens shows no sign of becoming liquid or rancid. The specimens have been displayed in a normal room environment, without air conditioning or other humidity controls. Dr Meryman attributes this lasting durability to several reasons. The first is the fact that the freezedrying process inactivates all enzyme systems and removes most soluble gases. The second is the unstable tissue condition created by final moisture removal during secondary drying. This condition, a mild invisible form of oxidation which prevents the absorption of moisture and allows the specimen to improve with time.

0 - 2 lbs 2 - 5 lbs 5 - 7 lbs 7 - 10 lbs

£230.00 £360.00 £420.00 £490.00

If your pet is over 10 lbs. it is £36 extra for each additional pound. Special poses and/or circumstances may result in higher charges. 50% deposit is required with arrival of pet.

Unfortunately sometimes because the process takes so long the owner who is elderly dies during the vacuuming. 45

Freeze-dried Pets

PET CRYONICS For those pet lovers in hope of restoring their ill pets in the not so distant future, here are a number of ways to preserve their essance.

Possibly even enough for a near-perfect reconstruction -- certainly when combined with other data, such as video recordings, photos, writings, etc. Alcohol Another issue is the high flammability of “pure” An old and widely used preservation method. Put the alcohol. Handling will require due caution and animal’s head, brain, or entire body (after removal common sense, i.e. keep the storage vessel well away of the intestines; this could be done by a vet or other from heat sources, make sure that it doesn’t get “professional”, if you can’t do it yourself) in a glass, damaged by sharp objects, regularly check for leaks, stainless steel, or plastic container (a drum; usually never handle it roughly etc. this is the best option) filled “to the rim” with alcohol (70-90% purity) or methylated spirit. Some sodium Cryogenic Freezer chloride could be added to better preserve the DNA. Buy or hire a cryogenic freezer, such as the Harris Glycerine (5%) can also be added to the mixture; Cryostar. Some of these can cool down to -150*C. supposedly this helps to protect the specimen should Cryogenic freezers are high-tech, usually highthe alcohol accidentally be allowed to dry up/escape quality machines with many user-friendly features. -- something which, obviously, should be avoided at They use electricity instead of liquid nitrogen which all times. The container should then be sealed and eliminates all kinds of (potential) handling & supply stored in a dark and cool place, ideally in a freezer. problems. They’re very “discreet”-looking (i.e. they The container should be inspected from time to time look pretty much like a regular freezer) as well, and for leaks etc., though these are unlikely. Also, make the units are both larger and better accessible than sure that no part of the animal is sticking out, the lid the above-mentioned mini dewars.relatively shortis closed properly, the container is placed in a stable term storage (a couple of decades at most -- we’re position, and that whatever it is resting on can easily definitely not talking centuries here. take the weight. These things don’t come cheap; a Cryostar will This is a very cheap, easy, and relatively lowset you back approx. $16,000 + shipping. Similar maintenance method of preservation. Anyone can pricing can be expected for other brands. Because do it with off-the-shelf materials / gear, i.e. alcohol, this option is in fact more expensive than having the a glass or plastic container, and a regular freezer pet shipped to the USA and stored “professionally” (optional). Howevery alcohol is a relatively poor by CI or Alcor, it is only interesting if you plan to preservative, at least from the cryonics perspective. purchase a unit with a group of people. Let’s say Though biological specimens can be stored for many one could, if necessary, fit some 20 - 30 animal (or decades without any significant exterior degradation, human!) brains or heads into the freezer (or whole it is said that under a microscope they look like bodies if the animals are small enough), and the “mush”, even after just a few months. total set-up costs are approx. $18,000. If purchased Unlike liquid nitrogen storage, alcohol or other collectively, the costs per person would be $600 chemical preservatives can only slow decay down $900 p.p., assuming a group of no less than 20, and somewhat, not stop it “entirely”. Refrigeration no more than 30 people. Annual electricity costs, helps, but its effects are limited at normal freezer probably somewhere between $1,000 and $2,000, temperatures (approx. -20*C). Also, even what may could be split on a similar basis, making them today look like “mush” under a microscope could relatively trivial (somewhere between $30 and $100 in fact contain a lot of useful information by future p.p.). standards.

Freeze-dried Pets

“ IF IT WERE NOT FOR YOU, I WOULD NEVER HAVE SEEN HER AGAIN. NOW I AM WITH HER EVERY DAY. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!”

Freeze-dried Pets

Sadness is most acutely linked with the real physical loss of a person, place or thing which has passed from view.

Freeze-dry Have the pet freeze dried. From an aesthetic / emotional perspective at least, this seems to be the #1 choice. Once the pet has been freeze dried it should preferably be stored in an oxygen and water proof (plastic, stainless steel, or glass if the pet is small) container which is packed with ample quantities of a desiccant such as calcium oxide. The container should then be put in a (regular) freezer. Though the freeze drying companies claim that the animal can be displayed unprotected at room temperature, protected and refrigerated storage is highly recommended if you’re serious about longterm preservation. Liquid Nitrogen Buy or hire a small liquid nitrogen container, the kind that’s normally used for the storage of small biological specimens in labs etc. The D-4000 model is promising. The containers’ relatively small size and neck diameter are both their strong & weak points. While helping to keep things affordable and manageable, they also make it impossible to store a (larger animal’s) whole body, or even a large head -the largest neck diameter is typically 21 centimeters. Most pet brains should fit, though, and if necessary they could even be cut up into two or more pieces (this kind of damage is relatively trivial compared to that caused by ice crystals, and should be relatively easy to repair with nanotech etc.). A bigger issue is the fact that LN2 containers need to be refilled at least several times a year, and the LN2 pricing per liter tends to be pretty steep when such small quantities are involved. On the other hand, it won’t be more than, say, 500 - 1,000 EUR a year, which should be affordable to most persons, especially if you share the container with some other enlightened pet owners (and placing the container(s) in an insulated, for example wood & styrofoam box could help to further reduce LN2 boiloff, and thus the annual maintenance costs) . Even a relatively small vessel should be able to accommodate several heads or brains. Also, liquid nitrogen is dangerous stuff ! In order to prevent hardcore freezer burn, asphyxiation, and damage to the unit (which, in extreme cases, might even cause explosions) one has to observe some basic safety precautions.

Freeze-dried Pets

Another important point to consider is that it may be illegal in some areas to deliver LN2 and other sealed gases to private homes. Plastination Pet plastination is slightly easier than human plastination. There is at least one company that performs animal plastinations for private individuals: VisDocta Research in Italy. A dog brain costs approx. 1,100 EUR and a cat brain 800 EUR, “according to weight”. The method used is whole-brain silicone impregnation, as opposed to slicing which is both more destructive and expensive. The pet’s owner must present a “vet declaration” which states that the pet either died naturally or by means of euthanasia, and has no contagious disease. In most cases this will be just a formality; contact your local vet for more information. The procedure itself should be affordable to most (Western) pet owners. It’s ultimately a matter of priorities; how much is the pet’s (potential) survival / your own peace of mind worth to you? There should be relatively few legal restrictions regarding transportation & storage of plastinated animal specimens. Refrigeration (standard freezer) is recommended but not absolutely required, and in an emergency a plastinated brain would be very easy to evacuate; put it in some kind of box & off you go. The further one lives from Italy, the more difficult & expensive it will be to get the pet’s brain to the VisDocta facility in time. Specimen retrieval / transportation can be taken care of by the company, but this will cost you approx. 1,000 EUR extra. However, even with these added costs this option is still much cheaper than having the pet shipped to the USA and frozen by either CI or Alcor. Whole-body plastination, though technically quite feasible and preferable from an aesthetic perspective, would probably be too expensive to fall in the “low budget” category. Still, people who would like to preserve their entire pet and don’t mind paying somewhere between 5-15 thousand EUR for it should definitely contact VisDocta. Again, separate cell sample storage would be highly recommended.

OBJECTS OF REMEMBERANCE There are many species of sadness, each with the unswerving devotion of a medieval nun. But one by its own particular weight and shadow – the gloom of homesickness, the maudlin tears of self-pity, the distress of grief or empathy with another’s loss – each shifting the weight of sadness towards a place or person which once was but is no longer or – more abstractly – towards what might have been. But while sadness for a failed dream (a failed marriage, a failed ambition) is bitter, sadness is most acutely linked with the real physical loss of a person, place, or thing which has passed from view. With this loss comes remembrance, and with remembrance, a longing for the departed and, in its absence, a sentimental yearning for a token, an object, something which can be felt and touched: a material souvenir of what is no longer but which lingers everlasting in memory. “After an emotional catastrophe,” Susan Pearce notes, “it is always the sight of a scarf which the absent lover used to wear which enables us to enter more profoundly into our sense of loss, showing ourselves to ourselves in ways which nothing else can do.” Objects of remembrance are private things filled with a personal and, at times, incommunicable significance. A souvenir which belonged to a departed loved one is powerful, but a souvenir which once was a beloved is intoxicating. Just how intoxicating? That explanation is best left to Gustave Flaubert and his short, sad tale, Un Simple Coeur published in 1877. Flaubert’s tale recounts the series of deaths and departures that compose the life of a simple housemaid named Félicité. Her father dies, then her mother, and the sisters are dispersed. She is beaten by a farmer who let her keep cows in his fields. Her fiancé is harsh and deceitful and leaves her heartbroken. She begins life again as a servant for Madame Aubain and her two children - Virginia and Paul - who she serves for half a century.

But they all leave her – her long-lost nephew, the children, an old man living with cancer in a pigsty – they all forget her or die, even Loulou, her beloved parrot. But Loulou, Félicité has stuffed. Jauntily posed with one foot in the air and a gilded nut in his beak, Loulou becomes more than just a stuffed shell of Félicité’s beloved bird. Over the years Félicité transforms her little attic room at the top of Madame Aubain’s house into a shrine cluttered with religious icons and relics of all her departed loves. Rosaries, holy virgins, a holy water basin made out of a coconut, and a picture of the Holy Ghost with flaming red wings; Virginia’s little plush hat, artificial flowers, a box of shell from her nephew. Loulou, her only real treasure, was the central figure. The difference between religious objects and objects of remembrance blurred together, and together they provoked a sad yet rapturous passion in the housemaid. She began to suspect that the Holy Ghost – the Giver of Tongues – had really been a parrot not a dove as it is conventionally represented. Logic is certainly on her side: parrots and holy ghosts talk; doves only coo. And when Madame Aubain dies and Félicité is completely alone in a crumbling house, deaf, almost blind, and nearly mute, she begins mumbling her daily prayers kneeling in front of the parrot. After all, another name for the Holy Ghost is Paraclete from the Greek for one who consoles or comforter. The comforter, the giver of tongues: only the lonely could understand the solace. When the glint of the sun fell through the window on Loulou’s glass eye, it seemed to ignite a spark in the bird that sent the simple woman into ecstatic reveries. At this point, Loulou was really no more than a mass of feathers with a broken wing and batting sprouting from holes eaten by worms. But none of that mattered to Félicité.

Freeze-dried Pets

As she finally passed from this world to the next, holding Loulou tightly to her bosom, Félicité thought she saw a gigantic parrot hovering in the opening heavens above her, welcoming her home. Is Flaubert mocking Félicité as she dies clutching a rotting parrot? Is this the final, pathetic acts of a simple- minded, emotionally overwrought individual? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Flaubert was not immune to the emotive powers of objects. His novels are infused with a tender regard for even the most mundane things: combs, cigar cases, little plush hats. Objects are seducers and comforters, fragrant with memories and human longing. And then, consider that Flaubert’s beloved younger sister Caroline died nine weeks after their father’s death in 1846. On the morning of the funeral, Flaubert, devastated beyond words, cut a few locks of her hair and had a plaster cast taken of her face and hands. “I saw the great paws of those boors touching her and covering her with plaster,” he wrote to his friend Maxime du Camp. At least, he added, “I shall have her hand and her face.” From the death mask, Flaubert commissioned a white marble bust which sat with him through the passing years in his writing room.

I should note in passing that a month before her death, Caroline had given birth to a baby girl named Caroline. Flaubert nicknamed his little beloved niece Loulou. Loulou: the name of comfort and companionship against loss. But more important than Flaubert thoughts on sad souvenirs of the dearly departed is your willingness, as a reader, to believe that bodily bits of loved ones have the potential to become, for lack of a better word, magical. Magical in their ability to transcend a broken, wormy, repellent shape to capture and retain a sediment of the departed and, even more fantastically, for this physical relic to offer emotional solace. I don’t mean to be macabre or gruesome. Except for a powdered heart, poor Loulou is as broken a souvenir as you will get, at least in this chapter. Objects of sad remembrance are typically aesthetically pleasing things like glossy locks of hair tied with ribbon. Few of us would find emotional comfort in a leg bone from a dead lover or, for that matter, a stuffed parrot eaten by worms. But then, Félictié’s fanatical hold – literally – on the dead, glossing over all material collapse, seeing only joy, sensing only reassurance, is as fictional as it is oddly touching.

out of vogue Death souvenirs have fallen

Death is now put away, cleanly and promptly.

Freeze-dried Pets

Part devotional object, part wistful souvenir of better days, for Félicité, Loulou becomes hope and love materialised. In his brilliant novel Flaubert’s Parrot, Julian Barnes offers a tender gloss to the story. “Imagine the technical difficulties of writing a story in which a badly-stuffed bird with a ridiculous name ends up standing in for one third of the Trinity, and in which the intention is neither satirical, sentimental, nor blasphemous,” Barnes marvels. “Imagine further telling such a story from the point of view of an ignorant old woman without making it sound derogatory or coy.” But such is Flaubert’s Un Simple Coeur. And, such is the potency of all objects of remembrance: they become whatever we need them to be. Despite the kind words Barnes (or rather Barnes’ narrator) has for Loulou, a stuffed parrot seems an inauspicious start. Parrots don’t win awards for gravity, especially fictional parrots. And yet, underlying the absurdity of Flaubert’s tale is a keen image of the everyman, of the universality of loneliness and the objects we shore up against loss. Of course not all of these objects are equal. Some are more poignant, more precious than others. Some are sentimental; others tinged with irony. But how we choose to remember the dead and departed is not arbitrary. Death souvenirs have fallen out of vogue. Death is now put away, cleanly and promptly. Any mixing up between dead and living things is a contagion, miscegenation. In contrast, Flaubert’s era was not so squeamish. After all, individuals were born and died at home. Death was intimate and frequent in the nineteenth century. But neither were locks of hair or marble busts gruesome tokens. Unlike the omnipresent skull and macabre momento mori of earlier times, nineteenthcentury death souvenirs quite precisely focused mourners’ attention away from the grim realities of death and towards their own suffering and loss and, eventually, towards comfort and consolation. The nineteenthcentury vogue of “sleeping beauty” post-mortem photography exemplifies the same desire. The dead were posed peacefully, as if merely sleeping. Children were surrounded by flowers or memorialized holding their favorite toy. The suffering of death was erased by sweetness.

But post-mortem photographs, death masks, locks of hair, and stuffed parrots are not all the same sort of objects. The first two are copies of the departed, captured either by traces of light or by reliefs of facial contours; the other two are the departed. And this longing to preserve some physical part of the dead is my subject. But neither are locks of hair and stuffed parrots the same sort of object. To state the obvious: one is a whole bird, the other is a piece of a human. Part versus whole. Human versus animal. Why the difference? Is whole more affective than part; or is part more eloquent than whole? A full bodied surrogate made from the actual cadaver of a cherished creature, a stuffed pet is a very strange sort of object. There is no reason to suppose that the loss of a pet is less difficult for any particular individual than the loss of a human companion. Pets are pets first and animals second. Our pets share our emotional lives; we endow them with the sentiments, intelligence, and dignity usually reserved for our fellow man.

Freeze-dried Pets

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Alan Alda

Rachel Poliquin

Never Have Your Dog Stuffed: And Other Things I’ve Learned. Random House Trade Paperbacks; First Edition edition (September 12, 2006)

The Breathless Zoo: Taxidermy and the Cultures of Longing. Penn State Press, 2012. August 2012

Anthony Eddy’s Wildlife Studio

Simon Jones

Please give us a call at 660-529-3470 for more information on Freeze-dry preservation. Our studio is located at: 315 N. Main Slater, Missouri 65349

Pets in Peace Telephone 01656 737712 Cwmdu Ganol Farm Garth Maesteg CF34 0DH

Perpetual Pet 6704 Sinsonte, Fort Pierce, FL 34951 727-207-7661 www.perpetualpet.net Philip Leggett Bolton BL2 3PT wildlifeartuk@aol.com Polly Morgan Email - info@pollymorgan.co.uk Tel - 020 89851795

WOULD YO U HAVE YO U R PET STUFFED?