My cousin Desiree– known to the citizens of Trout Nation as D-Rock, destroyer of worlds– had a gerbil. Its name was Cinna. D-Rock bought this poor creature when she saw it in a tank all by itself at the pet store and an employee remarked, “He has to stay in there because he’s a bully.”
The bully part was the selling point, I’m pretty sure.
From the moment it was purchased, D-Rock devoted as much time and energy as possible to make sure this gerbil had a rad life. In a huge glass tank, she assembled a veritable city of cardboard boxes and wood shavings suitable for burrowing. Cinna was king of a deserted city, master of all it surveyed.
While D-Rock was recently on vacation in Mexico, Cinna lived with me. It was, without doubt, the most ill-tempered rodent I have ever seen. As I sat at my desk working, Cinna would come out of its little box houses and challenge me, standing on its hind legs and chattering, then dropped down beneath the lip of the cage and popping its head up for surveillance. When I fed it, it ate its bowl. When I gave it water, it flipped the dish. And ate it.
Last night, when D-Rock went home from my house (we watch TV together nearly every night) she found that Cinna had passed from the realm of her cardboard kingdom, into the universal consciousness.
So she tweeted it.
Falcons are a recurring theme with D-Rock. It has been foretold that purchase of a falcon will be the final straw in her marriage, but we all know that bird is coming someday.
Yes. She constructed a funeral pyre, whereupon she cremated the body of the Gerbil.
Rest in peace, Cinna. You gave no fucks and lived life by your own rules.
