A Thank-You Note

Dear Human Friend,

Your thoughtful gift gives me much happiness.

You see, I lost my companion a few weeks ago. I don’t know what caused her affliction. We used to hold tails together and swim with abandon.

There’s frequent talk about inhabitants in my world losing partners and family members. They too, like my love, choked up and left us alone. I was in a deep funk, much like Picasso in his blue, blue days.

You understood our plight. You send us gifts galore just to alleviate our sorrow. You try to make our world better. These gifts last forever, leaving a legacy for future generations. But the rate at which we lose partners, perhaps these gifts will last past extinction.

Last week, my friend got huge kicks going in and out of a six circle transparent exercise machine. It brought him so much happiness, he almost stopped being crabby.

Your incessant gifts make us forget losses. Is it a bit much to ask for instruction manuals? You see, some folks here just don’t get it right. The sea turtle wanted to imitate the little crab, but it got all wrapped up in that very same six-pack. I mean, there are age and weight restrictions, right? I gotta say, you humans think wisely before testing out equipment. One silly animal did not even know how to suck out of the colorful straw. He put it up his nose!

Your generous gift material endures long after you leave. Atop the food chain you may stand, but with your humble degradability, we see you’re one of us. Your benevolence in spreading the “forever” wealth around is peerless. The nest had bright blue plastic material, keeping the bird family safe.The other day, the mamma lost her spouse. Apparently, for reason unbeknownst to us all, his abdomen exploded. The devastated widow stopped foraging food. But your wondrous material saved the day, and the hungry family gobbled it greedily. The next time she visits, I will let her know I included her in the thank-you note. I thought she would get here by now, but something must’ve held her up.

My friend the hermit crab found a new belly protector. He uses a plastic bottle cap. It’s hardier than the scattered shells he once was used to. I happily align myself to your thinking; technology does mean evolution. He says you like to take those lowly shells for yourself and replace with the invincible bottle caps. Such stewardship is a human trait. Those incessant presents come thoughtfully included with plastic wraps and gift bags. Indeed the humans are wise; they think of everything.

I love the pink, shiny stuff you put out for me. It’s my crutch for the one I lost. She promised to be by my side, but left me way too premature. Her demise made me lonely, but the pink stick with fluffy tips gives me much comfort. I feel like Picasso in his Rosé days. Swimming together, I sing La Vie en Rose with accordion playing in my mind. I’ve become a giddy teenager with his first love. The world is so much nicer through rose-tinted glasses. I grip her with my tail, and we cavort along. Long after I’m gone, she will serve another, until to serve there’s no other. Such is her eternal promise, all thanks to you.

Gratefully yours,

The Once-Lonely Sea Horse.

Photo by Justin Hofman / Wildlife Photographer of the Year