When I was a young child, probably too young to be watching a film of this nature, I remember Pet Sematary gracing the family television fairly often. I would watch different portions of it here and there, and it somehow managed to be a sort of undeniable presence in my childhood. Before long, it became a sort of staple in my experiences with film, with quotes aplenty being tossed around between myself and my mom. I lost count of how many times we would exchange a deadpan “Yuck. Kiss your own cat,” followed by laughs only an inside joke can bring.
