Er, well, at least that’s what I’d like to think. As Angelica laid out the details of the last months of his life, the indifference she conveyed was shocking.

“I moved in,” she explained glancing at the snow falling outside her window, “ and I just never thought to water it.”

And that was that. No remorse. No regret. Not even a second thought about the life she had so carelessly snuffed out. I cast a glance in his direction. 

 Sad, sad plant.

“What are you doing?” she demanded as I pulled out my phone to take a picture, “You aren’t taking a picture for your blog, are you?”

“Pffft.” I lied without words.

Considering that Angelica moved into this apartment a year ago, this poor plant was well past a little dehydrated. Imagine my horror when she told me she wanted to get a cat. Images of bone dry water dishes and emaciated kitties flashed through my head. Like something off of those overly depressing ASPCA commercials.

Six months ago, Angelica did in fact get a cat….

……and she’s a little terror.

Zoey is very much still alive. So what the heck happened to the plant?

The plant, which we’ll call Dustin, sits in his sad pot of dust waiting for the day when Angelica will water him. A glimmer of hope came in when tonight she both acknowledged his existence, and asked if maybe watering him would help. I told her it might and she cast him a glance. I could have sworn I saw his brown crispy leaves flutter with excitement. Then she looked away and began talking about the snow. Poor Dustin. He will never see water again.