Everyone remembers their first real encounter with death. My first was when I was about 4 or so, my mom and I had come home to find our cat, Yezzie, laying dead in the hall. He had died of old age. I remember it being kind of shocking. I don’t remember much of what happened, just that I told my mom the vet couldn’t help Yezzie anymore. I’m pretty sure I know when my little sister figured death out as well. She was about the same age as I was when our cat Baby ran off and never came back. She was very old and had never not come back. So we knew she had gone off to die in private. She was kind of strange that way. But Annika continued to talk about Baby, even compared her to our grandfather when he passed away. Just something that the Epic of Gilgamesh inspired. Sorry for the morbidness.