Jim

My best friend Jim.Jim was my best friend.Jim was a Squirrel monkey.I traded a guy I worked with a set of weights for Jim.Seems his wife was terrified of Jim.He had a cage but when me and him where alone I just let him run free.I walked into the kitchen and there he was,his little hands in the flour patting it all over his face.His little hands where like human hands.He would sit on my lap and pat my face.Gosh he was like a little kid and I loved him so.My folks said that Jim would start whistling before I got home each day like he knew I was coming.Often I wonder if he had ESP.Jim died in my arms at the vets.I was 18 but I cried like a baby for Jim.For several days after he died I could hear Jim at night whistling for me.