My ferret died last night.

I loved him so much! I got him as a thirteenth birthday present, and he was supposed to live for seven years! Instead, he died after four and a half. It's not fair and it's not right.

You know what's worse? My legal guardian. That's who.

He died around midnight, and when I found out, I went into my room to cry. A few hours later, I came out and I found out that she had buried him without me! She then told me that she thought that I had gone into my room to sleep!

Yeah, sure, bitch! I find out my baby died, and I just go to my room to sleep! I'll bet that the day you find out your mother died, you'll go to the kitchen to have a snack!

And as if that wasn't enough, this morning, she started talking about getting a new ferret!

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HER?! My baby just died last night, and she wants to replace him?!

I hate her. I hate her for burying him without telling me and without letting me hold him one last time. I hate her for acting like we can just replace him with another ferret.

And I hate myself! I hate myself for being such a bad owner! I never played with him enough! I always neglected him! What kind of a person am I? How many times did I pass by his dead body last night and not even realize he was dead until midnight?

And why the hell do humans live for so damn long? Why can't all animals live the same amount of time?

I don't ever want another ferret. Ever.