Last night I was watching The Road Warrior with my pet raccoon, Dusty. It's her favorite movie. At the end when Mad Max takes on the marauders in an intense highway battle, Dusty would always stand up on her hind legs, waving her front claws, and go, "Cla-Cla-Cla!!" Even though I knew what would happen, I'd get caught up in her excitement.
The thing is, last night, as the marauders crashed head-on into each other and died, Dusty keeled over and dropped dead onto the living room floor. At first I thought she learned a new trick. I actually thought that I would video the next time she did that so I could share it with you. But then I realized. I was so sad.
I went out to the garage and got out a shovel and went and dug a hole in my backyard. I went back into my house and wrapped Dusty up in a sheet. I carried her out to the grave and dropped her in. I tossed in her favorite toys. I thanked her for being a faithful friend and then I filled in the hole with dirt.
I went back in and cried. I was embarrassed that I was so emotional. I like to think that I can be a strong person who can rise above feelings. But I think that's because I have a good imagination.
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