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2004-04-10 - 5:36 p.m. We went to some stores today. Linens 'n' Things, BJ's. Bought some new sheets: magenta. Was going to write about how most people like to sleep on pastels and flowers, but I like to sleep on a bad acid trip. But I came home. And I went into my room. And I saw a paw draped over the rim of the food bowl. She'd done something similar before, so I said, "Hey, The Cheat!" She didn't move. Her eyes were open, staring at some spot near the corner of the closet. I poked her. And I screamed. The Cheat is dead. My little girl... she was barely old enough to leave her mother when I got her. Smart, sweet, tolerant, adaptable... She let me put her on a leash and take her to the beach. She would sit on my shoulder for hours. She would climb inside my shirt or my sleeve and fall asleep. We'd share snacks. She'd be audience zero for my new songs and monologues. The only reason I got Moxie was that I didn't want The Cheat to be lonely. I couldn't touch her body. I couldn't bring myself to look at it. We buried her behind the little evergreen tree in the "yard". The crazy drunk neighbor gave her a Baptist funeral. My sister and I said the Mourner's Kaddish. I marked her grave using the tall, multi-colored glass-ensconced candle. The cage looks so empty without my big girl in there. I might be projecting, but Moxie and Panya are acting strangely. Moxie seems a bit lethargic, and Panya is very terse and edgy. If a rat can be terse. I couldn't hold her much recently. The rats have been giving me hives when I hold them. Maybe it would be best to find them new homes. I don't know. All I know is that I miss my friend.
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