Weddingbee Blog

This is a picture of my roommate’s cat, Sylvester.

He’s a booger and a half, and I love that little rascal. Right after he knocked over the plant my company gave me to commemorate my grandfather, he curled up by my feet and purred. I’m a sucker when he starts the purring. As naughty as he’s ever been, I’ve always forgiven him.

This is a picture of my mother’s wedding dress:

It was lovingly preserved and had only been tried on once (by me) since the first time it had been worn.

Can you tell where this story is going??????? When I left you last, I told you about the hurdles I was trying to overcome in having my wedding dress designed from the fabric of two generations of women in my family. I told you there was one that broke my resolve to see the project through.

It’s really a story for the ages, one that I will tell when I’m old and wrinkly. One that makes me laugh even as I type it. So sit right down and prepare to listen with childlike awe. This, my friends, is the story of Sylvester and the dress.

I packed my grandmewether’s dress in the bed-in-a-bag zippered plastic liner that my grandmewether had mailed it in. I packed my mother’s dress in the cardboard box full of tissue that had preserved her dress for nearly 30 years. I shut the trunk and drove from the Lambrent’s house back to Norfolk. I drove happily along, thinking about my initial consultation with the designer and dreaming of how I could incorporate a lace bodice.

I arrived at my townhouse and greeted the animals that lived there - two cats and a dog. I love animals and was thrilled to have roommates with pets. The Lamma-Ramma took to calling it the nut house and another roommate’s boyfriend called it the barn. I was happy living in the chaos that is a house full of animals.

Going about my business I set the dresses on the credenza and continued to lug in my suitcase. Running late, I sprinted up to the kitchen to make a Super Bowl party platter. My roommate came home and I excitedly told her about the dress plans. She asked if she could see them - “Of course! they’re down on the credenza!”

“Miss Lamb!” She chastised. “You know you shouldn’t leave them laying around with the animals!” the roomie called up.

“Huh? They’re both covered!” My heart started racing and I made a beeline for the stairs.

“The box is on the floor, completely open!” she cried and I saw my dreams of sentimental dresses flash before my eyes.

***The photographs of the generations that were in the balance. The feel of the satin against my skin. The tears in Ewe Mom’s eyes as she zipped me into the dress.***

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my mother’s dress jumbled in a heap on the floor. The box lay open. An unmistakable smell penetrated the air.

Sylvester, the naughtiest cat in the world, whom I loved anyways, lay on the stairs switching his tail.

“That cat!” (I couldn’t bring myself to say his name.)

“THAT CAT just PI$$ED on my mother’s wedding DRESS!” I was breathing fire.

I don’t know if cats can feel fire breathing anger, or they just choose to ignore it, but Sylvester made his ears go flat and got the kind of look in his eyes that told me he couldn’t care less.

It was rather unbelievable, the story of how one by one, my three viable dresses were picked off. As I took the dress upstairs to try to save it, I burst into a defeated giggle.

That stupid cat has just peed on my mother’s wedding dress! The more I thought about it, the more the absurdity of it all made me laugh!

I called Ewe Mom when I was in a fit of hysterical laughing. She replied,

“It was an ugly dress. Sylvester must have thought so too.”

*cue the I Love Lucy Theme song*

And that, my friends, is the story of why I decided to buy a dress! I’ll be revealing the dress that I’ll wear on my big day shortly!

Has an animal (beloved or not) ruined any of your wedding plans?