Really.
I’m sad.
There’s always a period of dumbness, of slowly dawning comprehension when a pet dies.
I told you all about William a few times. He’s my millipede. A giant black one. I bought him at a pet store because he was only nine bucks and because he looked cool. I never expected I would love him. But when I took him home that day, he was frightened and he was curled up in my hand like a little armadillo.
But then his antennae lifted and he slowly smelled my hand, decided that I was one to be trusted, and he bravely unfurled and crawled up my arm. It was all tickly and his legs moved in this fascinating undulating motion.
He liked to eat green peppers the best and once I had no veggies for him so i gave him a big scoop of rasberry jelly instead.
He stuck his little millipede face in it and chewed it somwhow, and he looked really cute with jam all over his antennae. I helped him clean it off in case it was harmful.
I liked to watch him sleep. He would sleep rolled up in a spiral and it was so cute-
he would inhale and when he breathed out, a twitch would start from his head and his legs would shimmy all the way down the spiral of his body.
Only I was watching him sleep the other night and he legs weren’t moving. Not one of the 210. And his legs are never completely still.
It took a long to register what it meant for William to be dead.
But i put that aside for awhile because he needed to be taxidermed.
Bad idea.
I did an extra careful job out of respect for him, painting him with a glaze and he looks beautiful-
But taxiderming one’s own pet is a bad idea. I did that once to my salamander, ol’ Buford- but I waited a year before doing so.
After i taxidermed William I went to bed, sad. I had a dream that I was painting the glaze over William and his legs were flailing about.
I’m sad.
Thanks for reading all this and not making fun of me.
Sigh.
William was the best millipede in the world.
Sorry