What happens to lost pets?

3

I once had a pet named Hammy. 

He was, indeed, a hamster.

He was a teddy bear hamster.

I remember him well.

He had a torn ear, and he was very soft.

He had been eating Donkey and Mule food for the first half of his life.

He enjoyed the Habitrails we gave him.

He never once bit me.

He was very tame.

I loved him.

Every day I held him.

He liked it when I held him.

He sometimes licked me with his tiny tongue.

I thought his tiny tongue was cute.

I like to think when he licked me that he was tasting my hands for excess food.

I think he was.

He liked to sleep.

Sleeping was fun for him, I suppose.

I think he was sleeping so I would not know he was a secret agent.

Really, I think he just liked to sleep.

I remember when he faded.

I had come home from practice late, and ate dinner, as I finished I went to check on him.

I opened the cage, and he was laying on his side.

I touched him.

He did not move.

I called in my father.

He picked him up,

he told me he was gone.

I wept.

I wept for a long time.

I took many pictures.

I told him I was sorry repeatedly.

I felt like I had done something wrong.

Like I had failed him

I suppose I did not.

i still feel like I could've helped him live longer.

But I do not know.

He was good to me.

I loved him.

I miss him.

He was kind.

I remember once when I had a friend, after the week that hammy died, who would cry over foolish things.

I said something to her that week about being strong, that she should not cry over those things.

I said, I did not cry here when my hamster died, he was very good to me.

Another friend of mine said, quite hurtfully, Yea, all you did was whine and draw sad pictures.

That is how I deal with grief, I remember saying, I dealt with it well for my age.

She thought I was weak.

I thought she was rude.

We are not friends anymore.