Zoey does not have any imaginary friends. She has plenty of real friends, and since she's so headstrong, she can make them do whatever she wants. So the need for imaginary friends that can be easily controlled hasn't arisen yet.
But she doesn't have a pet.
See where I'm headed with this?
Zoey has an imaginary cat. Zoey has an imaginary dog. Zoey has an imaginary turtle, fish, rabbit, elephant—you name the animal, she has one for a pet. Apparently, Zoey has an imaginary zoo.
And every imaginary animal is named Freako. I have no earthly idea how she came up with that name. I don't think I really want to know.
But here's the really twisted part: none of the animals live in our house. They all live in Heaven. So not only does my poor child have so many imaginary animals that she had to give them all the same name, but they keep dying on her as well. Imagine all the imaginary guilt she must have stored up inside of her.
I do not know what caused all the imaginary carnage. Perhaps they were all imaginarily run over by imaginary cars. Or perhaps one of her imaginary animals became imaginarily infected with some imaginary disease and imaginarily transmitted it to the rest of the imaginary zoo.
Regardless, I know I won't be getting her a real pet anytime soon. Not until she can at least take better care of her imaginary ones.
I Don't Want To Be Buried In A Pet Sematary
