Her name is Ness. Don’t ask me, my daughter named her. Tank is included, along with decorative plants and accessories. Except for the little figurines – she hand-painted those herself. No idea where I’ll put them. Maybe on the shelf next to her baby picture.

I was always too afraid to touch her. But I guess I never noticed her do anything wrong.

She tried to explain that a fear of snakes is illogical and that they are just as lovable as say, a puppy. That was before she stopped calling.

I tried explaining to her that fear of snakes is the most normal thing in the world. The snake tempting Eve was one of the first things we learned way back in Sunday School. If my Papa caught one in the yard he’d make off for the garage and come back with his hatchet. She’d just let Ness curl around her fingers as she stroked her head.

I don’t know anything about this breed. Not even sure what they eat. I suppose there’s lots of things I don’t know. At the funeral a friend of hers let me know that she’d been depressed. Sometimes I imagine her wasting away on a diet of buttered saltines and Fanta. I would’ve fed her biscuits and gravy like she used to like. If she even still liked them. I told her you can’t change everything. Some things should stay the way we’ve always known them to be because they are logical whether you like it or not. She didn’t like hearing that, but I never told her she couldn’t come home. If she could have just accepted that sometimes things just are the way they are we could have done that! I wouldn’t even have mentioned her haircut.

It was never about the haircut anyway. If she would have just told me I could’ve held her head in my lap the way I used to when she was young. I still would have combed through it gently with my fingertips until she felt better.

Anyway – maybe I won’t even post this ad. Maybe I’ll try to learn about her. Figure out what she eats. I’ll even let her keep her name.