We had a little man, who lived in our kitchen. We called him Little Man, but he may have been a Little Woman (very difficult to sex). He would watch us washing the dishes or stand in the bathroom looking up at us adoringly. I guess he thought the mountains moved and made noises like the adults in Charlie Brown (woomph, woomph, woomph).
One day (or early morning, actually) one of us (we each blame the other) got up to pee at 3am and, yes, you guessed it, Little Man was no more.
Perhaps he thought the gods were angry, or that the sky was falling, but either way, it would have been very quick (and heavy). We had a small service in the back yard and buried him in a matchbox (nah, I'm making that bit up).
RIP Little Man 19/06/12 - 21/06/12.
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