The recent loss of our campus cat, Critter, got me thinking about the my family’s pets who have passed on through the years. Here are some standouts:

1. Susie, Lucy and Lily – Over the course of two years, my older sister Kathleen went through two hamsters. The first she named Susie, the second Lucy. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, probably four or five.

Of course since my cool older sister loved these rodents, I did too. One day, I loved one of them a little too much. I was holding one of them (I don’t remember which) and squeezed a bit too hard, killing her without realizing it. True life I am a hamster murder.

Kathleen, heart-broken, cried at our makeshift backyard funeral. We buried the hamster in a shoebox a few inches below the surface. I guess my dad should have dug a little deeper, because the next morning the rodent corpse had been exhumed and was gone.

We blamed our neighbor’s black cat because we hated it anyway. Still hate it to this day.

Thus ended Kathleen’s hamster’s poor, short and squeezed life.

2. Fish – A few years later, I entertained various waves of goldfish.

My very favorite thing in the world at this time was to go to Waldo Pets on Wornall, feed the coy in the back, look at the sharks, tap on the beta fish’s bowls and beg my parents for those adorable puppies frolicking behind the glass window. I loved animals as kid.

For my eighth birthday, I hounded my parents for a pet. It didn’t matter what kind, I just wanted something to play with preferably with fur or feathers.

My mom recognized my lacking responsibility and wisely chose the lowest maintenance pet, a goldfish.

I was overjoyed. The best part was naming them. Some classics are Colorful, Spotty and Orange. Clever, right?

Maybe because I consistently forgot to feed them, or maybe because their life span was short anyway, these fish passed on and made their way through the Kansas City sewage systems.

I believe it was Colorful that experienced the most gruesome death.

One day, I peeked in the fish tank, squinting through the algae covered glass. I noticed Colorful was swimming in a funky way. His body was twisted, and he was just kind of limping along in a way only a fish could.

We determined that he must have broke his back. I didn’t know then and still don’t know now if it is possible.

To save him from the pain, my dad scooped him out of the tank and transported him to our toilet. And I cried.

Within the week, I was onto other eight year old things, and the pain of Colorful’s death faded like bruises and scrapes on my knobby knees.

Hopefully, we can all bounce back from our loss of Critter as I did with my precious Colorful.

STA will miss him. I feel like a part of the campus, a part of STA’s soul, has gone along with with our furry friend. RIP Critter.