This morning I gave away Miss Cleo’s cage and toys and things to our company’s janitor, who found a homeless hampster in his backyard. Miss Cleo would approve, I’m sure.
Last night as I was packing it up, the sound of the bell on her favorite toy, a background noise so familiar, made me cry again. I miss my little buddy. She always seemed so happy and excited about life.
But then I gave Rudolf a towel to play with, and his utter delight at tugging it around, arranging it JUST SO, and hopping on and off of it, well, the whole world became a good place again.
……. 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.
She told me so. For $4.99 a minute.
Last night my little Miss Cleo died.
This morning John Edwards called me and said she’s in a very happy place. And that she said to avoid driving today on any street with the word “alta” in the name.
And to wear a scarf whenever it’s windy, but I think that was just general concern. She seemed to love us as much as she was loved, as we can read here and here.
Her funeral is tomorrow at Bunny’s if you’re good with a shovel or wanna squeeze my hand.
Rose’s little TrixieBelle rat has passed away, after a long and happy life. If you leave a comment below, I’ll make sure she sees it.
Speaking of rats, my own little Miss Cleo is sick. It’s just a little cold and I think *crosses fingers* she’s pulling out of it, she seemed better this morning, but it’s made me realize how old she is, and reminded me to be prepared, and cuddle her lots while she’s here.
And speaking of mothers, Amber had a great comment string about things we learned from our mothers. It got me thinking about my BunnyMama and my RosyMama and how much they’ve both taught me, like to dream big, and what a grout cleaner is.