A gift for someone whose dog, or cat, has gone.

A hardcover memorial storybook for the friend whose house is the wrong quiet. A hardcover. Signed at the colophon.

A pet loss gift has to last longer than the casserole.

You found out by text. You wrote back the thing you always write — that you are so sorry, that you cannot believe it, that you are here. Then you stood in the kitchen and tried to think of what you could possibly send. The flowers will be dead in five days. The candle will be too sweet. The plant will be the third plant on the counter that nobody can keep alive right now.

What your friend needs is an object that says the name. Not yours. The dog's. The cat's. The one nobody else on their phone is saying out loud anymore because nobody else knew the dog the way they did. A book on the shelf with that name matte-printed on the spine is a kind of company. It does the thing your text could not.

What to send when flowers feel insufficient.

You write the press a short brief. The pet's name. Three details only your friend would recognise — the brand of food, the friend at the end of the block, the spot on the couch. Juno writes the story from those. The book is illustrated for this one book. The book is hardcover, matte-printed, in a plain box. It ships in roughly two weeks. You include a card that says I knew her too.

This is not a card from the pharmacy. It is not a framed paw-print. It is not a charm to wear. It is a bound book about one named animal, made for one grieving person, that the family will keep on a shelf for the rest of their lives. The casserole gets eaten on Tuesday. The book is still there the following March.

Eighty-five dollars. One edition. Closed when it ships.

The book is sent to your friend in a plain box with a card from you. There is no duplicate, no library copy, no second printing. The press closes the file once the book is bound. If you would like one for yourself, you start a separate book — edition of one is the rule, and we keep it.


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