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If you’re honestly surprised that I’ve written an obituary for a rat, you really don’t know me very well, do you?
But this isn’t about me. This is about the brief, but significant connection between a woman and a rat. Or, about the questions of how any one of us can assign value to any other.
Pablo was in her life for 16 minutes.
He came to her a survivor, for even the most skilled of predators couldn’t do more than fracture a limb.
He came to her trusting, allowing my better half to take care of him without protest.
He came to her, and she is grateful, even though he had to leave so soon. I am grateful, too.
We’re grateful because Pablo has reminded us, in the 16 minutes we knew him, that the lives- and deaths- of all creatures are worth dignity, and respect. They are worthy of compassion in their final moments, perhaps especially when you can do nothing but give them a sturdy box, safe from additional predators.
But, Pablo is a survivor, an escape artist. In his final escape, from her, he sent one final message.
Pablo Fyre Escapar is no bitch,
And you shouldn’t be one either.