So I buried my guinea pig yesterday. I took it pretty hard, relatively - that is to say I was the only one in my family who shed tears over our diminutive departed critter. At first, I was just like the rest of my family members, making a few comments about "life" or "it happens," filling the gaps with a few sighs. But then the memories welled up: his tiny, warm weight on my chest as I lay supine, his inquisitive nose checking me for the millionth time as if I were unfamiliar. He would then perch immutably there, claws and paws clutching my t-shirt, always somehow ambiguous between the two extremes of petrifaction and relaxation (this is the default state of a guinea pig). It was only then, picturing this, that I started to cry.
I always seem to be the only one thinking this: when somebody dies, thoughts and prayers always for the surviving family members seem to outnumber thoughts for the deceased person. What's it like to be him right now? The dead guy. He must have found out by now whether or not there's an afterlife. And you have to wonder how he's taking it.
Only being sad about about our lost times together is was a revelation of what pet relationships truly are. I was most sad when I realized that a source of joy for me had gone away forever; I didn't sob upon seeing and processing little Furball's still body and mind for the first time. I insist: grieving for pets is, essentially, a selfish activity. Instead of thinking of the wasted potential on guinea's end, I thought about mine and erroneously labeled it "ours." I worry that there is a danger of seeing human beings like I saw my lost pet- as mere sources of laughter and stimulation, the other party in a two-man contract (or worse, one-way contract) to amuse ourselves and kill time. A modern notion, of course. If you find that friend time competes directly with TV time, this is a problem. When I die, I want my eulogy to be more than "We had some good times with this kid" and "Darn, we could have had more." I want my eulogy to be honest. I wanna be classified human. I wanna be irreplaceable...if possible. If people weep only selfishly, I've done it wrong. I was fun to be around, sure, but true connection was always missing. I want to be connected!
That night, I almost ran over a bunny. I dreamt about Furball. In my dream, he was softer than ever.