I know this is two days late, but early in the morning January 4, 2015, while I was still hanging out at my brother Alex's apartment, my beloved flying squirrel Faust had died. My mom found him in the corner of his cage curled up like he does when he sleeps and when she saw that he had not touched his food and looked at him, she realized that he was dead. When I came home, she delivered the terrible news. Faust was 3 1/2 years old. She, Alex, and I buried him in our (large) backyard. His cage is still in my room and now that he's gone, my room feels so empty. After we buried him I still had a hard time trying to stop crying and the next day at early-mid 1am, I had a fever and threw up at least 5 times. This final pic of him everyone sees on my main front page is Faust in the box he was buried in. A few days later, because by habit I still keep going to his cage, I covered it up with a large blanket because it's still hard looking at without becoming close to tears. I will always miss my beloved Faust.