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Here lies Moon Man who loved to run on what he called his Millennium Wheel or sometimes,
The Eye, I'm on the London Eye! He'd go for 10 mouse-miles then stop to wash his whiskers, ears and rosebud nose. Then snack on a seed or berry or a long dried strand of timothy hay and be on his way again on the yellow wheel. As if
this journey were brand new, one of a kind, never to happen again. And slept all day in a tea box house, on a bed of shredded grass and bits of pillow stuffing. And he took sunflower seeds from my hand, never failed to peek out of whatever hiding place he was in when I called his name. One of a kind, bright little zen friend, laid to rest on a bed of zinnias, marigolds and fresh mint. He will be so missed.
Moon Man will indeed be missed. A wonderful friend, great companion. May his memory rest in peace in your memories and bring you joy.
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