The Appropriate Weight of Grief
Michael Zadoorian

Beautiful story, and it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing it.

For certain, the size of the animal does not indicate the size of the grief or the love. Ming, my little button quail—who could be held in my hand, completely enclosed, and weighed mere ounces—cuddled in the cup of my shoulder. I would forget he was there as I read my news in the morning, only remembering when I would get up for more coffee. He’s been gone for almost two years, and I still think about him daily. There can be a clarity in the love of, and for, a pet that is unequaled elsewhere.

S Lynn Night mentioned the book That Quail, Robert. Great book. One of my favorites. Read it, if you haven’t. It’s not long.

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