Blue has been in the freezer all winter. Now that the weather is back in the seventies and eighties it seemed like a good time to dig a hole and bury Blue. I put him in the insect and arachnid graveyard next to all the orb weavers i’ve buried after they succumbed to horrible beheadings at the hands of various praying mantises. I’m certain that my legit cattle ranching neighbors would find a funeral for a butterfly laughable but that’s the beauty of living some place where you’re surrounded by trees and the nearest neighbor’s house is acres into their property. Nobody knows what we do here. Myself and the dogs are free to be as weird as we please. Blue was a good butterfly and he gets a funeral.
