Pssst...

I can't say much for this situation but I can tell you this: contrary to popular belief, sometimes secrets do make friends.

Farewell, Al

I currently had two pets: Ferdie, a parakeet who likes to talk to his mirror reflection, and Al, a leopard gecko. I left them under my parents' care while I traveled for two weeks.

Mom and dad decided to pick up my sis. "Hey, bring my zoo when you come up," I told my mother.

Pause. Pause not good.

"Honey, Al got out of his tank."

"What? When did this happen?"

"A couple of days ago. I wanted to tell you but didn't want to put a damper on your trip."

A few more lines and I hung up. I felt sad and heavy and wanted to cry.

Beky, my sis, for some reason couldn't understand. How would you feel if mom and dad lost Waffles (her bunny)? "It's different," she retorted.

No, it's not. Just because I couldn't pet or cuddle with Al while watching TV doesn't mean he wasn't a good pet or I didn't care. I had him five years and had grown very fond of him; I loved watching him stalk and pounce crickets and friends' reactions when they held him.

The spot on my bookshelf where his tank used to be is occupied by Ferdie, three wooden geishas and a bamboo plant. It looks nice, but it's different. I feel the need to fill the tank and emptiness with something else, but it wouldn't be right; it's too soon.