One evening shortly before we moved to New York, my sister and I emerged from the bathtub all clean, rosy cheeked, and pajama’d, when my parents told us the shocking truth that Bambi was no more. She’d gone to live with someone else. A misguided double-cross, they had stuck us in the tub, and then given Bambi the old heave-ho! They insensitively underestimated us, thinking we couldn’t handle it. I was devastated they didn’t let us say goodbye. I totally understood and accepted that she had to get a new home and couldn’t come to New York, but I felt betrayed that they’d denied us the dignity of
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