Dear Paximilian

March 30, 2021 2:32 PM

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The author’s pet got his head stuck in a Kleenex tissue box. Photo courtesy of the author.

The author’s pet got his head stuck in a Kleenex tissue box. Photo courtesy of the author.

It was a three-hour drive that day. We were going to the middle of nowhere, Rhode Island (of all places!) because we had someone to meet there. It was an unbearably hot day, with bright blue skies that looked like they were smirking at you. 

But, eventually, we got there. It was a small, one story building with pristine white floors. Inside, we were introduced — he was a very fluffy creature. He was gray, with timid streaks of white; playful, but reclusive. 

We brought him back to our house that day. He vomited on the way there and peed on the floor as soon as we were home. He was mischievous, always looking around the house for stray shoes, or, well, anything that fell to the ground. At night he was always barking — constantly had to go out — he had the worst habits. He was truly unpleasant, but he was the best. Soon, all of us learned to be family.

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