This issue features a microinterview with Amy Finkel, conducted by Molly Oswaks. Finkel’s first documentary film—Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart: The Banjomaniacs of Guthrie—was nominated in 2004 by the International Documentary Association for the prestigious Pare Lorentz Award. Her newest project, Furever, is an exploration of pet preservation, the processes by which a deceased pet is professionally conserved. Through expert interviews with grief counselors, pet preservationists of all sorts, and grieving pet owners, Finkel aims to open up a new perspective on grief, death, and mourning.

–Molly Oswaks

PART I

THE BELIEVER: How difficult was it for people to relive these very devastating pet-death experiences with a camera and mic shoved in their face?

AMY FINKEL: First of all, I don’t know if it’s the freckles, but I look young, so people trust me––as they should; I’m a thinking, feeling individual, and can totally sympathize with everything they’re going through. Half of the interview footage is people just bawling through basically the entire thing, then they would stop, then occasionally I would cry with them.

There is so much emotion coming from these people. It was tough. I’m not trying to sensationalize. If someone asked me to stop, I did. It didn’t feel like a reality-TV set in any way. It felt like reality.

BLVR: What are some of the weirder things you’ve come across in your research?

AF: Someone had a dog who’d just had his leg amputated. He wanted the leg preserved. The dog was fine, but he wanted the leg. That, to me, is creepy. That goes to a very different level, and I have a tough time understanding it.

PART II

THE BELIEVER: Is there anything you’ve come across that seems dangerous or destructive?

AMY FINKEL: You can’t fault someone for loving their pet too much. But sometimes people so do not want to let go of their pet—they are so attached that they let their pet suffer at the end. It’s upsetting. Like, they let their dog live two weeks longer than it should. People like to hold off death as long as they possibly can. Hopefully preservation will make it so that people are less terrified, and they can euthanize on a quicker basis, and then get their pet back sooner.

I remember one experience. My rat had passed away––I think in Seattle rats have a better reputation than they do in New York. They’re very smart; she was cage-trained. I would come home from high school and she would sit on my shoulder for five hours sometimes. So we became very close. And of course, we project onto these pets, we anthropomorphize them, which I...