This cache honors my 12-year old niece's faded, tattered, bedraggled, and utterly beloved stuffed animal-baby blanket named Pink Pig (Pig, for short). Grace received Pig as a gift as a newborn infant, and it became her very first friend and her best source of comfort, and it still is. As a baby and toddler and small child, wherever Grace went, Pig went, and that was an iron-clad golden rule that was absolute. There were occasions when Pig was accidentally left behind during visits, and the parties knew that, if any sense of peace were to be obtained (Grace wasn't a brat, she was truly heartbroken if Pig was not with her), Pig would need to be returned to Grace's arms, and it did not matter how much time or gasoline was involved in the return. Pig was once left at Grandma's house, about 4 hours away from Grace's home, and Grace sobbed with such heartbroken intensity for the entire car drive home that Grandma was called, a search for Pig was instituted (and included neighbors), Pig was found on the shore of the lake Grandma lives on (dropped after a boat ride, it is believed), washed and dried with great care, and Fed-Exed back into Grace's arms the next day. We decided at that point that, in order to avoid great psychological harm to Grace upon -- God forbid -- a permanent or long-term loss of Pig, we better find a replacement Pink Pig and store it away in a closet at home so there would be a "back-up" for Pig. After endless searches and a ridiculous amount of money paid on eBay, we obtained an identical blanket-stuffed animal Pink Pig for "emergencies." A time did come to require access to the replacement Pink Pig, and Grace knew immediately, of course, that it was NOT her Pig -- it became known as Left Pig, because it was not the Right Pig, hee hee hee. She did begrudgingly drag it around, but when the real Pig was found and returned (from a friend's house), Left Pig went back into storage quick as a wink. When Grace started preschool, there was a rule that beloved toys could be brought to school, but must be left in the preschooler's cubbyholder, so Pig spent most of each day of 2 years' stuffed in a little blue box with a nameplate of GRACE across the top. When kindergarten started, beloved toys could not come to school, and this was a really difficult transition time. Grace, age 5, would cry each morning as she was led away from Pig, who sat in her car seat in the car all day. And the first thing she did after school was gather up Pig for a big hug, as she was buckled back into her seat. She adjusted after a few weeks, and the tears stopped. Then there was a very long effort (like years) to cajole and bribe and persuade Grace to leave Pig at home whenever she went anywhere outside the home. Gradually, Pig and Grace could easily separate during the day, and Pig became a bedtime-only friend and comfort. At this time (early summer 2015), Grace is almost 13 years old, and she is a confident and beautiful middle school girl (and now taller than me!). Her bedroom contents have morphed from stuffed animals, American Girl dolls, and Disney stuff to posters of celebrities and popular "junior" clothes on the floor and computers with big screens that play movies online and help organize homework. Last time I saw Grace, she had been allowed to begin to wear mascara (what is THAT? I screeched). A lot is changing in Grace's young life, but one thing has not changed. Pink Pig still sits on her bed and waits for Grace each night to come to bed -- still her best friend and her best source of comfort.
The cache is a medium-sized container with a log book, pen (never hurts to bring along a writing utensil, though), and original swag that is adorable and homemade (by my niece and me - a snow day craft project with a new springtime geocache in mind).
The cache is located on the grounds on an MSU agricultural research facility that seems to be appropriately named as a home for this cache, although I have never encountered tell-tale signs - vile smell, messy muddy pens, grunting noises - that indicate that animals are actually housed here. Perhaps the research has become more informational, data-based versus hands-on reseach that requires regular animal interaction. Who knows? It just seems very quiet at the facility, especially evenings and weekends, but keep your eye out for possible muggle encounters. If there are any vehicles parked in the small driveway/lot, you may want to search some other day.
Congratulations, Akita Crew, on FTF!