When I was a child I was very curious about everything (still am). At one point I wanted to be an entomologist. I read everything I could find on insects. I asked my folks for an ant farm but I was denied. Looking back, they probably couldn’t afford one.
Fast forward about thirty years. I run across one in a store in San Luis, so I bought it.
Awesome! I got my ant farm.
Set it up, get the ants, kick back and watch them do ant things. Throw some crumbs in there, make sure the cotton ball in wet. It was everything I had hoped for, they’re fascinating creatures.
One day I noticed one of the ants moving a little slower than the rest, and by the evening it was dead. The other ants dug a little ant graveyard and placed their buddy in it.
Soon there was a second ant then a third and so on till there was only one left.
There is nothing that I’ve ever seen that is so sad as the last ant.
It just sat in the corner, head down, antenna drooping, the very picture of despair and it seemed like he kept on living for weeks though I’m sure it wasn’t nearly that long.
It was horrible.
I felt terrible.
P.S. I know that I have no idea how that ant felt or even if he felt anything at all. But it sure looked like he did.