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A few words (and pictures) for Jenny’s funeral.

I met Jenny O’ Sullivan on the 10th December 2011 at a fancy dress party. I was dressed as a pantomime horse, mainly to cover the bruises for having lost a boxing match a few days before.

I was broken and feeling old and defeated, and sad and hopeless and I felt that I hadn’t got much to live for. But I saw Jenny’s bright blue eyes on the dance floor and it was love at first sight. She was so beautiful and intelligent and warm, and I basked in her light, and I felt like she had brought me back to life.

Her friends joked that she had the face of an owl who’d been out drinking the night before, and we laughed about it a lot with our friends. She became known as Jenny “Owl” Sullivan.

It was really love at first sight. She saw something in me that nobody else did. She said I was “lovely”.

No girl had ever called me lovely before. I was a lovely horse!

We kissed and on the bus home, I said “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’m in love with you.”

We were inseparable from then on.

Later that year, her best friend Sam died, apparently from drugs. We cried so hard for him.

Life in London ground us both down, over the years. On our first anniversary, I surprised her with a trip to the Screech Owl Sanctuary, and in the big bio-dome of the Eden Project nearby, I went down on one knee, played “The Last Day On Earth” by Marilyn Manson, and there I asked her to marry me. She said maybe.

She also said “turn that horrible noise off!”.

She loved rave and techno, and I loved goth and metal. So we were very different. I should have known then, that it wasn’t a strong maybe.

The next Christmas, she bought me the best present I ever got. It was a christmas jumper, but it was styled after the extreme metal band, Slayer. We spent that Christmas in Holland. We even visited the red light district on Christmas Day!

Jenny wanted to save everyone, especially the prostitutes.

At the owl sanctuary, we learned about a thing that owl experts call “imprinting” – this is when an owl becomes attached to a human who feeds them, and although it’s fun for the human, for the owl, it’s really bad, because they lose their natural instinct to hunt and survive on their own.

We were both unhappy in our different ways, and I began to think that maybe Jenny, my owl, had imprinted on me – and that even though I loved her, I was hurting her, just by trying to care for her – she needed to find her own way.

We met at London Zoo, and I explained as we watched the otters. She agreed, and so we went our separate ways.

I knew that she was happier without me, and although I wanted to be with her, I knew that she needed to find her own way, without me.

I never held any bad feelings towards her for wanting to live her own life, without compromising for jaded, broken old me.

But I loved Jenny. I loved her enough to let her go.

I hope you all will too.

Jenny was a very very spiritual person, although she was unorthodox in her beliefs. I believe that she is not gone forever, but moved on to her next adventure – either reborn as a new human, or moving up the hierarchy to become something inconceivably more wonderful. My personal theory is that she’s been reincarnated already, and will definitely live to see the singularity. Her family are Brahmins, after all.

Goodbye, little owl. I am happy to have known you.