Wendy and the Wedding Dress

She was only a couple of weeks old, a strayed kitten abandoned in the parking lot of the fast food Wendy. My daughter is allergic to cats but has a soft heart. She named the kitten Wendy and brought her to us with a good speech and imploring eyes.

Our kids being in college, the big house was an empty nest. We raised Wendy and taught her English and French. She had excellent manners and never jumped on a chair or table but watched TV on our laps. She knew that “eat-eat” meant food in her dish. “Nighty-nighty” and a long caress on her head had her drag herself to her sleeping basket.

Wendy stayed with us nine years and was the pampered youngest kid in the house. But when Arlene came back home, Wendy was exiled to protect our daughter from an asthma crisis.

Eventually, Arlene got engaged. We joyfully prepared the wedding and ordered the wedding dress. Three weeks before the wedding, we received the lovely dress.

Unfortunately, the dress was too long and the store claimed they didn’t have enough time to shorten it. My mother who had been a fashion designer and seamstress declared we would do it–or I would do it under her orders. I spread the dress on the dining room table and worked for hours to adjust the hem while my mother gave me instructions.

For a whole week, I kept Wendy out of the house and she did her best to sneak in. By Friday, I finished my job and left the dress on the table with the skirt still lying inside out. We finally allowed Wendy in to watch TV on my lap in the family room. When I said nighty-night, she obeyed and left for her basket, and I went to rest in my bedroom while waiting for my husband who worked late.

When he came back home, my husband asked about Wendy. Apparently, she was not in her basket, not in the kitchen or the family room or... My stomach squeezed with a bad feeling, I went to the dining room. Curled like a little golden ball, Wendy slept on my daughter’s wedding dress. My heart sank in my toes.

My husband put his finger on his lips asking me to be quiet. He came close to me and whispered: “Hold her paws, I am going to remove her.” We acted swiftly. I covered her paws and he lifted her. Thank God, she didn’t scratch the dress and slowly opened dazed eyes. My husband patted her and put her to bed while I turned the lights on and examined the dress with a prayer on my lips.

Golden hair covered the skirt but no damage attracted my attention. I carried the wedding dress to my daughter’s room and blew the cat hair with a hair dryer, then I spread the dress on a chair and opened the windows to let the cold air aerate the room.

Every day I would flutter the dress. The last thing we needed was for my daughter to sneeze and cough the minute she wore the dress. A week later, Arlene came home for her bridal shower and tried the dress. She didn’t cough or sneeze. I finally relaxed and told her the story. We had a beautiful wedding with a lovely bride and a proud mother-of-the-bride.