When my grandfather heard from my mother about Scrambles’ terrible and untimely passing, he told me that if you have some, you’re going to lose some. And of course it’s true. Not very comforting, but true. I know it well: I have many pets and I always have. I don’t make many friends of the human sort, but animals have always been there for me, and life without them is something I really can’t imagine.

Having so many pets has meant burying so many of them over the years. It always hurts, but this time it hurts especially bad, because it shouldn’t have ended this way. The past couple of days, I’ve been crying through work and sleep. I’m crying right now, trying to write this.

Scrambles, I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything to save you. I hope that you knew when I bathed you, wrapped you up, and kissed you goodnight, that I never wanted you to hurt or be scared. I only had you for a month, but that doesn’t make a difference. You were a cheerful, playful, amazing little friend and I miss you terribly.