With a heavy heart I write this in memory of Mr. Bucktooth, my beloved mouse. It’s been almost four years now since I’ve lost him, and I think about him every day. I miss the way he would keep me up at night chewing at his cage. I miss the way he would sleep in my pocket and poop with an air of nonchalance that said, “I am comfortable with myself.” I’m sure today he’s in mousey heaven pooping and eating simultaneously like there’s no tomorrow.
I miss the way he would bite my ears when he stood on my shoulders, then he’d proceed to poop some more. Poor Mr Bucktooth perished in the sub zero temperatures of a blackout during a snowstorm. When I found him the next day, he looked like a tiny fuzzy Popsicle. His tail was stiffer than a stick.
It was particularly painful to watch Booboo my pet boa constrictor eating the thawed out carcass of old Mr Bucktooth. You will be in my heart forever my little beady-eyed friend.
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