On our morning walk through the forest, we found a little mouse lying on the path. He looked dead, but when I picked him up I noticed his heart beating in his chest. Even though he didn’t appear to have any injuries, it was clear that he was badly hurt. What are we to do, I wondered. Should we call animal rescue? Would they be here in time? Before we could decide what to do, he started to wheeze awfully. I knew he wasn’t going to survive this, so I held him against my chest. We sat down by the water and I stroked his fur and whispered soft words of solace. As I shielded his body with my hand, his tiny paws moved ever so lightly through the air… and then there was only stillness. We waited for a bit, but he gave not a sign of life. Tears fell on the earth as I held him for a moment. Then we found a quiet spot underneath a tree and buried him in the dark sand. I gathered some acorns and sea shells and placed them in a circle. Farewell, sweet one.
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