Author: Erin

Oatmeal and I met on a beautiful July day. She was so sweet, and so tiny. I knew from then on that Oatmeal was special. Oatmeal got her name because she was unique, and I wanted her to have a unique name. Oatmeal was a very smart girl. She knew her way around the house in her ball. I loved to wake her up while she was sleeping because I loved the cute look she would give me. I loved it when Oatmeal would stand on her two back legs and wobble. I have always had dogs, so I called her like you would call a dog, and of course she would come to the door of her cage
to talk to her mommy.

Oatmeal was very healthy and I still don’t know her cause of death. I was very sad when she passed, and I am still sad three days after her death. I buried her in her favorite pink ball. I loved and still love my sweet Oatmeal. Oatmeal now lays to rest under a white wooden cross by my bedroom widow so I can always feel her close to me
when I go to sleep at night.