Fuzzy just... stopped eating a few days ago. Today Fuzzy was cold, stiff, and lifeless.
His/her name was Ferdinand Fuzzy Isabella Sisyphus III. Remember him/her. Honor him/her. We may never know whether Fuzzy would have had a longer, more fulfilling existence in the wild, but since chances of predation are high, and Fuzzy had already demonstrated poor intellectual faculties by getting stuck in our stairwell for several days, we feel ourselves fairly absolved of guilt. Nonetheless, our Fuzzy, dearest friend and companion, will be greatly missed. May his/her spirit roam the sunlit meadows of Lepidoptera heaven for all of a joyous eternity.
...Our apartment feels so empty with just the two of us.