Monkey Cadaver dot com? That's what you chose for your business?

. . . Why?

Meg comes from a long line of "Collectors." Collectors are, in essence, selective horders. So that people would know what to get her for Christmas, her birthday, and most importantly, what to bring her back from places all around the world Meg quickly passed through flirtations with stamps, shot glasses, porcelain dolls, until she came upon her true love... monkeys.

This delightful simian beast came into Meg's life at a pivotal moment during her 14th year when she said goodbye for good to her lying, cheating, miserable birth father, and hello to a new outlook on the world. She had withdrawn into herself for many years, and was needing a change. At such a juncture, it would have been beneficial for someone to help Meg find her inner child, but since she was already a child herself, she discovered her Inner Monkey.

The monkey that started it all was a terrible, ugly thing. Loved far too much over the ages, then abandoned in the clearance bin at an antique mall on the desolate road to Vegas. It was love at first sight, even though Meg’s mother did not understand her obsession with this decrepit old rag. It was ugly. It was worn. It was tired and stale. Meg thought it grinned maliciously at the world because its tiny stuffed brain plotted the demise of those around it. Meg’s mother bought her a new monkey on that trip as well - a shiny, clean, safety-tested, mother-approved, ball of fluff that had long arms, perfect for giving hugs. It came with that new factory smell and fell apart within a month. The juxtaposition of the two was amazing.

Meg saw herself in that first monkey. It was something that had been loved; smothered with affection on a daily basis. Sometimes hugged so fiercely the seams creaked with the strain and threatened to split. Sometimes they did. They showed signs of having been patched up time and again. This once constant companion that was dragged everywhere through rain or shine, always by the side of the one who loved it. But after all those years of love, attention, and affection, the monkey found itself abandoned. Forgotten and un-cared for, it sat collecting dust among unfamiliar antiques with only it's memories to keep it company. Meg had always been "Daddy's little girl."

Meg felt very much like that monkey.

According to family law, sense Meg had returned form a trip with multiple monkeys, that was now what she collected. She doesn't mind. One of her greatest presents received to this day has been a giant box chock full of antique mechanical monkeys.

At the time of founding Monkey Cadaver dot com, Meg had 52 monkeys.

As for the "Cadaver" part: in 6th grade, Meg showed interest in the science lab and stayed after class to dissect frog after frog because it was just too much fun. Her teacher, inspired by her interest, ordered every available animal that she could and presented Meg with her own mini fridge stuffed with shrink-wrapped critters. Meg spent all her free time alone in that lab, filling journals, drawing in detail her findings, and sometimes creating her own mini works of art with the splayed out carcass, like once-living Rorschach tests, stretched and pinned from head to toe. She still remembers the pungent sent of the formaldehyde and the sound of the slight intake of air whenever she cracked the seal of her next exploration. That was the best school year, ever.

To this day, Meg still prefers drawing animals to humans.

Meg has never dissected a monkey, or seen a cadaver of one. That would most likely, make her cry.