The one and only…

By Paget Pizitz

I’m a Jew and Louis the cat is a Jew. However, we both turn into giddy school kids during the Christmas season. The lights, furious angry crowds frantically buying last minute thoughtless presents, holiday parties with cocktail shrimp platters, Christmas Vacation on loop, and the dogs in mountain brook village who have bells strapped to their collars for the entire month of December. I hear you coming Princess Buttercup.

Speaking of buttercup, last year, Louis was a touch more portly. Thanks to an untreatable stomach issue that has baffled at least four vets, LTC is a little on the slim side this year. He looks like a child wearing his grandmothers mink stole, but fret not; he still enjoys the occasional Jensei special roll. His weight loss means his Santa outfit doesn’t fit anymore. So, in order to keep the Pizitz household festive, I’ve ordered him an elf costume and four tiny shoes. Granted he won’t be able to pop out of the chimney this year (well, last year he popped out of a microwave, as we don’t have a chimney), but at least he will still be in keeping with the Christmas spirit.

Moving along, I can argue that I had one of the best childhoods of anyone I know. When I was eleven, I got a pony in the middle of July that was presented to me as an early Christmas present. Granted, she was actually left there to die by our vet who knew we would take in any beast, even diseased circus ponies with moments left to live.

Unfortunately for Merritt and Francie, the pony lived 12 more years and rang up enough vet bills to build a second home, but I loved Rosie, and all presents after her were a total let down. This brings me to my point. As the holidays approach and single people everywhere seem in a frantic rush to couple or pretend a significant other doesn’t make you want to inject drain cleaner, I suggest you take a moment to look at the value of the relationships that have been a constant in your life so far.

I’ve learned a lot about relationships over the past few years, even more so over the last few months. The relationship I’ve come to truly appreciate and recognize recently is that of a best friend. I don’t care who your best friend is, your mom, your husband, wife, an internet pal you met on Friendster in ’97 or someone you’ve simply known your entire life. Whoever this person is, take a moment to appreciate them and tell them so.

When I was younger and very immature (let’s be honest, a year ago) I referred to everyone as my best friend. I remember as a child, asking my dad why he only had three friends. He said, when you get older, you’ll be lucky if you can count the number of true friends on one hand. So depressing, I thought.

As I’ve grown up, I’ve realized the truth to my dad’s words. Don’t get me wrong, I have many good friends and feel truly blessed to have met so many unique, loyal and genuine people throughout the course of my life. However, there is something to be said for the unconditional, limitless love of the best friend. I could call my friend Callie and tell her I had moved to British Columbia and joined the Red Scorpions, because at the time I thought a life of violent drug trafficking would provide a fruitful and rewarding future. She’d be in Canada with an illegally procured sniper rifle faster than Louis can inhale a sardine.

So this month, find your best friends and do something nice for them because this  is a relationship you want to always nurture and foster. Whether it’s buying them a Russian dwarf hamster or simply taking them to dinner. Do it, and do it now. You never know when you’re going to wake up alone without pants, covered in honey and feathers in a makeshift tent in Mexico City. Those are some dire straits, my friend, and not many people will come running to save you.

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