The Lab Pet...Dead.

Our lab pet, the Lucky Cricket, was dead.

It was a terrible death. Its middle and rear legs were broken from its body, and one of its antennae was broken, too. I felt sorry for it.

But Feng said:"The snow will kill it anyway, if I didn't catch it. It probably outlived its peer a lot longer in this warm room."

Sounded reasonable.

Our boss printed out a "R.I.P" gravestone on a piece of paper and taped it on the bottle.

Simon, an undergrad, came in and saw this. He shook his head at us accusingly:"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I told you to set it free months ago. Now see what you've done to it."

I repeated Feng's theory for our defence:"It's gonna die outside anyway. It can't survive the snow."

"No,"he said,"it can dig a hole and hide in it. You guys killed it."

Really? Terrible! If it was true, it must have hated us and cursed us in its final days. Its ghost would probably haunt us in the lab, messing with our experiments, or scaring our precious fruit flies to death.

To prove our innocence, and to have peace of mind, I did a little research on this subject. This website said:

They become adults in July and August, mate, and usually die in September, although some may live until the first frost.

So we didn't kill it. We actually made it live longer, much longer, than normal crickets, although it didn't have any grandchildren to tell his longevity secrets to.

I guess it could rest in peace now. So could my mind.