Yes, there is such a thing. But Mr. Zebra was not a zebra finch. I don't know what he was. He was blue with white wings and little black lines over them so that he looked like a blue-bellied zebra. We found him one day scared and hiding under our table, so we took him in.

I was obsessed with zebras. I saw him and screamed "ZEBRA ZEBRA!" And my best friend said, "MR. ZEBRA, like that Tori Amos song!" Thus, Mr. Zebra he stayed. He always kept me company while I smoked my cigarettes and had my coffee in the mornings, sweet little thing. I will never forget his death, it was one of those days of adolescence we think the world is over.

My boyfriend had broken up with me because even though I was pretty, this new girl he was dating was really pretty on the inside, which was a quality I was lacking. Upset, I went home and tried to shower and the water heater exploded (I was not injured and no damage besides the loss of the heater occurred). I went outside for an emergency cigarette, looked up and the swing was still.

Standing on a table, I looked down, and Mr. Zebra was curled up next to the little fountain we had placed for him to bathe in, dead.

Needless to say, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was beside myself. Totally inconsolable.