John Gorton the Butterfly has died.
I found him this morning when I went to pick him up to say hello.
He lived with me from June 23-July 4.
I'm feeling a bit sad and also a bit guilty.
Last night he ate his last meal—some Coke. And it was a large one. He kept drinking and drinking. I was getting really tired, but I didn't want to make him stop. But I wanted to start getting ready for bed. So I figured, I can hold him in my hand and get ready at the same time.
I managed for the most part. But then when I was brushing my teeth, he fell out of my hand. I don't know if it was his fault or mine. Maybe I tilt my hand accidentally and he slipped off. Or maybe he plunged off, not realizing he was so high up.
I don't know for sure that it's the fall that killed him. And it's actually not the first time he's fallen. He fell out of my hand at the lake house last weekend. That was about a week ago, and he survived all that time.
He was much younger in those days, though. So maybe his elderly body couldn't handle it as well. Or maybe it was because he fell after eating such a big meal.
And of course it could be a coincidence and it was just his time to go. When I said goodnight to him last night, he seemed fine.
Anyway....
It took me several minutes to decide what to do with his body.
I have a collection of dead bug bodies in our house. But none of those are my friends. They're bugs that were already dead when I found them. Or maybe I do actually have a butterfly that I took care of for an hour or so. But no...they're not my friends. It would be too sad to see the body of my friend later on down the road.
I thought of burying him, I'm really not into the whole burial thing. I don't like imagining him in the ground.
I guess I could have cremated him and kept that ashes. I didn't think of that until just now. But I'm not sure how to go about that. And it would be kind of depressing to see my friend on fire.
I flushed him down the toilet. It sounds crude. I know. But he's just a corpse now. He's not my friend John Gorton the Butterfly. I think I just wanted to hurry up and get rid of it.
Like a lot of people with deceased animal friends, I like to imagine that if there's an afterlife, my friend is there. Actually, if there IS an afterlife, it seems illogical to me that animals wouldn't be part of it. Why would it only apply to humans?
John Gorton the Butterfly's home was made up of Aussie books. Maybe spending all that time with the books gave him a love for Australia. So I'm thinking he could put a request in to be reincarnated as a cockatoo or something. Or he could have a dark side and since he's not really used to flying anyway, maybe he'll come back as a Blue Ring Octopus.
You never know.....
I found him this morning when I went to pick him up to say hello.
He lived with me from June 23-July 4.
I'm feeling a bit sad and also a bit guilty.
Last night he ate his last meal—some Coke. And it was a large one. He kept drinking and drinking. I was getting really tired, but I didn't want to make him stop. But I wanted to start getting ready for bed. So I figured, I can hold him in my hand and get ready at the same time.
I managed for the most part. But then when I was brushing my teeth, he fell out of my hand. I don't know if it was his fault or mine. Maybe I tilt my hand accidentally and he slipped off. Or maybe he plunged off, not realizing he was so high up.
I don't know for sure that it's the fall that killed him. And it's actually not the first time he's fallen. He fell out of my hand at the lake house last weekend. That was about a week ago, and he survived all that time.
He was much younger in those days, though. So maybe his elderly body couldn't handle it as well. Or maybe it was because he fell after eating such a big meal.
And of course it could be a coincidence and it was just his time to go. When I said goodnight to him last night, he seemed fine.
Anyway....
It took me several minutes to decide what to do with his body.
I have a collection of dead bug bodies in our house. But none of those are my friends. They're bugs that were already dead when I found them. Or maybe I do actually have a butterfly that I took care of for an hour or so. But no...they're not my friends. It would be too sad to see the body of my friend later on down the road.
I thought of burying him, I'm really not into the whole burial thing. I don't like imagining him in the ground.
I guess I could have cremated him and kept that ashes. I didn't think of that until just now. But I'm not sure how to go about that. And it would be kind of depressing to see my friend on fire.
I flushed him down the toilet. It sounds crude. I know. But he's just a corpse now. He's not my friend John Gorton the Butterfly. I think I just wanted to hurry up and get rid of it.
Like a lot of people with deceased animal friends, I like to imagine that if there's an afterlife, my friend is there. Actually, if there IS an afterlife, it seems illogical to me that animals wouldn't be part of it. Why would it only apply to humans?
John Gorton the Butterfly's home was made up of Aussie books. Maybe spending all that time with the books gave him a love for Australia. So I'm thinking he could put a request in to be reincarnated as a cockatoo or something. Or he could have a dark side and since he's not really used to flying anyway, maybe he'll come back as a Blue Ring Octopus.
You never know.....
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