We had our pet unicorn stuffed today. Oh people will tell you it's odd to stuff your family pet. A bit grim. A bit strange.

My aunt Gemma said we'd turn up on one of those hoarding shows, pointing out the rows of stuffed cats and rabbits to the audience.

I don't think it's so strange. Captain Bluebell gave us years of enjoyment. I remember when we first got him. The way he couldn't quite walk yet. He wobbled around, smashing all of the china we kept on pedestals. I don't remember why we kept over a dozen vases on pedestals but he smashed every one.

He was always happy in the backyard, running around chasing the rabbits from our garden. Sleeping at the foot of our bed, pushing his cold nose against our toes. Poking holes in our underwear with his horn.

So when he died after eating a whole bar of chocolate we decided we'd quite like having him around forever. A reminder of a favorite pet.