I am an animal fanatic and a card nut. These two obsessions coincide nicely in my life, for it only took two, cute little kittens to let me know that I was a cat person at heart. As I can’t bear the thought of any animal being mistreated, what little money that I have left over after robbing ‘Peter to pay Paul’ (paying bills), goes to organizations that rescue, vaccinate, and find homes for animals. For my largesse I have not had to buy Christmas cards, birthday cards or calendars for years.

The sadder the tale from the ASPCA, The Humane Society, or the Campaign to Spring Spot, the larger my check to save poor Petunia, Samantha or Cuddles. Close friends and relatives too are recipients of my bounty. For while cards much like Spam (canned meat) have no shelf life, calendars must be used by New Year’s end. 

Now and again I need a card for a special occasion. Lately these appear to be sympathy cards, as for some reason they are the only ones missing from my stash. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times. As I am aging, so is the rest of world, and with age comes mortality.

Another might be needed to bid farewell to a co-worker. While I am tempted to buy one that says, “Congratulations on your promotion. Before you go, will you please take the knife from my back? You’ll probably need it again on your new job”, I don’t. The ones I choose are usually light-hearted with cartoon animals frolicking about. For some reason I can’t resist the urge to identify each of the animals with the names of my co-workers. I suspect that Sigmund Freud probably had a term for this.

Recently I had lunch with a young, woman whom I mentor. Like many ‘twenty-somethings’ rapidly climbing the ladder of success, she is looking for Mr. Right; is leery of Mr. Right Now, and sick and tired of Mr. Totally Wrong, which unfortunately she did not discover until after the first date, and the stalking began.

I longed for was a card to express my empathy. For before I was married; I too cut my teeth in the trenches of relationship dyfunctionalism, and walked in the pumps of the lovelorn.
 Is it just me, or do all of Hallmark’s cards seem to reflect only sweetness and light? Where are the cards that address real life? Where is the card that says, ‘so your daughter just got a Mohawk? Believe it or not, this too shall pass.’ 

Where is the card for when you have hit your head on the glass ceiling at work only to arrive home to find the kids screaming? Suddenly the cat coughs up a hairball the size of a tennis ball on your stocking foot, and your husband is waving his white shirt at you. He is signaling that it needs washing or ironing or both. You stand there for a minute wishing for something…anything…Calgon, Jack Daniel's (whiskey) to take you away. Where pray tell is the card for that?