Sam walked and cried and held the Chinese food container low against his stomach.

“Put Jasper down into the grave,” I told him. “Bow your head.”

He tucked his chin against his chest and folded his hands, mimicking me as I pretended to know a thing or two about funerals.

“Jasper was a good gerbil,” I said. “Strong in the face of adversity, do you remember the time he escaped and lost his tail under the couch? He never complained. He let go of his tail in the same way we must let go of Jasper.” I went on to list Jasper’s finer qualities. “Do any of the mourners have anything to say about those past, before we conclude their journey to heaven?

Sam began to giggle. “He was really fast too.”

“Yes. Let us not forget.”

Poor Jasper, no longer will your nightly exercises rob me of my sleep.