There’s something delightfully absurd about sharing our homes, beds, bank accounts and emotional well-being with creatures who occasionally eat garbage and have absolutely no respect for personal boundaries.
We buy them orthopedic beds they’ll never use, spend ridiculous amounts of money on toys they’ll ignore in favor of dirty socks, and rearrange our entire lives around their bathroom schedules. We apologize when we disturb them on our furniture. And somehow, despite the shedding, the slobber and the occasional mysterious puddle, we remain hopelessly, irrationally in love.
Which, now that I think about it, isn’t all that different from loving another human being.
Although, if Hallmark is to be believed, human love is considerably more glamorous. Especially this time of year, when every television channel seems determined to convince us that true love involves a charming small town, a handsome stranger in flannel and a misunderstanding that could have been resolved with a five-minute conversation.
And apparently, Winter Garden has officially joined the cast.
This fall, Hallmark named Winter Garden one of 25 Official Hallmark Christmas Towns. We didn’t take the top prize (congratulations, Carlinville, Illinois), but honestly, I can see why we made the cut. The twinkling lights. The festive storefronts. The sort of downtown where you half expect a big-city executive to abandon her corporate career and fall in love with a Christmas tree farmer.
But love, as it turns out, has terrible judgment. It ignores logic, laughs at our carefully constructed plans and occasionally turns our entire world upside down. We fall for people we never expected to meet, forge friendships in the unlikeliest places and become hopelessly attached to creatures whose greatest ambition in life is to lick their own backsides.
Love makes absolutely no sense. And thank goodness for that.
Our pets, of course, have known this all along. They don’t care about our résumés, our waistlines or whether the house is decorated for Christmas. They simply love us as we are. Granted, some of that affection may be directly tied to our ability to operate a can opener, but I’m choosing to believe their motives are pure.
As you flip through this issue, you’ll meet some of Winter Garden’s most beloved four-legged residents. Their stories are funny, touching and occasionally outrageous. But they’re also reminders of something wonderfully simple: Love doesn’t have to be polished to be extraordinary. And neither does life.
So here’s to our Hallmark-worthy hometown, with all its perfectly imperfect characters. The neighbors, the families, the friends and the furry freeloaders who make this place feel like home. We may not always get the picture-perfect ending, but oh, what a story we’re living.
Heather Anne Lee
Editor
