Wrigley in the stars. Pendant from OliviaMoon.
Kurt is really good at finding sweet and meaningful gifts. They're always surprises. He rarely ever gives me anything I ask for - wish lists are thrown straight out the window. The first time he waved on a blatant gift hint, I'll admit, I was a little vexed. I sassed, my neck swaying like a cobra, "Oh, you think you know me better than I know me?" Turns out, he does. But to be honest, the gifts he finds are more meaningful and cherished than any coveted kitchen appliance, pair of shoes or cookbook. Instead of being guided by my Amazon wish list, he relies on keen observations and Johannalogical expertise to seek out the most unique and perfect gift I never knew I always wanted. The best part: Along with whatever item he finds for me, there's also the gift of some intangible sweetness. It's the thoughtful consideration that helped form his decision. Maybe it was something I said, or the way I lingered at a shop window, or some random amalgamation of things that remind him of me. It's a little glimpse of how he sees me. That part is priceless.
He found this pendant with an image from a vintage constellation map, Urania'a Mirror, published in 1825. It is Canis Major. It's also Wrigley, my late great hero and beloved Italian Greyhound, RIP.
Canis Major is a constellation near Orion. The brightest star is Canis Major, and the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, also known as the dog star. Canis Major is Orion's hunting dog. When Wrigley died, I found comfort in the natural cycle of life. Although the Wrigley I knew now only exists in my memories, it is wonderful knowing all those little Wrig particles helped nourish a plant or small creature somewhere. They were eventually released as molecules into the atmosphere we breathe and up into the cosmos, where constellations are shaped like dogs and other things.