……. you often discover friends that you never knew your desceased loved one had.
So I wasn’t that surprised when a pack of bikers followed me across town from my house to Bunny’s, to bury Miss Cleo. I said aloud, “Figures,” and waved.
About a year ago, Nick had bought a really gorgeous orange shirt and happened to set it next to her cage. Miss Cleo must have really liked it, because she proceed to eat about a third of it, which was uncharacteristic of her. It was such pretty fabric, for some reason it never got thrown out, and when I needed something to wrap her in, I thought of it immediately.
I’d had a hard time thinking of just the right box to bury her in, and even briefly considered a small dollhouse that matched the colors of her cage (too small) and eventually settled on a plain cardboard one, but found a use for that roll of polka dot packing tape.
It looked so festive that there was momentary confusion with my little brothers about whether or not I had brought them a dead rat or a present.
We buried her under the rosebushes, and my little brothers hugged me and told me they were sorry and that she was a very good rat and that they understood and knowing they way they love their pets, I knew they meant it, that they really DID understand, and Bunny laid a rose on top of her because Miss Cleo always liked brightly colored things.