Three Lessons from Pumpkin the Hedgehog’s School of Life & Death

Earlier this year, my partner Morgan and I said goodbye to our beloved hedgehog, Pumpkin, after an almost five month decline. His death left me reflecting on how I want to live. Here are three things I learned.

Remember Mortality

The Latin phrase memento mori is typically translated as “remember you will die.” I was first introduced to this when I began studying Stoicism, the ancient philosophy in which it is a core tenet. Memento mori serves as a reminder of our mortality and invites us to embrace gratitude and appreciation for every day we get to live.

In light of Pumpkin’s passing and the grief that accompanied it, I propose a slight reframe: “remember they will die”, which I believe is captured in Latin as memento morituros. (Note: I asked a few friends who know a little Latin for help with my translations. I welcome corrections if my translations are incorrect or could be more accurate.)

This framing explicitly highlights that life is not just about living, but about living with our loved ones. It invites us to embrace gratitude and appreciation for every day we get to live…together.

Morgan and I fight sometimes. When we do, I try to remind myself: Remember she will die. When I do, an intense sadness hits. Someday I’ll no longer even have the gift of fighting with this beautiful human. It challenges me to honestly assess what’s most important in that moment, and it’s usually not what we’re fighting about.

Pumpkin reminded me that it’s not just my time that’s limited, but that of my loved ones, too. And that I have a limited time with them.

Forget “remember you will die” for a moment, and instead ponder “remember they will die.” How might you approach a relationship, a conversation, or a conflict differently with this in the front of your mind?

Focus on the Good

When you have a dying pet whose care eats up a significant amount of your time and emotional energy, it’s easy to get stuck thinking about how shitty it all is. It’s hard, it’s exhausting, it’s sad, and it makes you feel helpless. You can’t really change any of that.

What you can do, I found, is to look around to find the bright spots. I asked myself “What good can I find in this?” The answers warmed my heart.

Most notably, I realized very clearly how the experience was bringing Morgan and me closer together. Shared experiences that involve some level of trauma are unmatched in their ability to strengthen relationships. We were collaborating, communicating, and loving each other (and Pumpkin) in ways we hadn’t before. We struggled too, and we made mistakes, and we got upset with each other. But it all made our relationship more resilient and ready for the next set of challenges we’ll have to face together.

Pumpkin reminded me that even when it feels dark, there’s always light to be found somewhere.

Maybe someone else is in it with you, whether you know it or not. Maybe there’s a part of you being unlocked by this experience. Or maybe it’s just showing you another thing you can conquer and still make it out the other side. What good can you find right now?

There’s Always Time for What Matters

For the last two months of Pumpkin’s life, he required hands-on care — in the form of 3–4 syringes of medications & nutrient supplements plus additional feeding and exercise — every morning and every night. While this wasn’t particularly intensive, each session lasted ~30–45 minutes.

If you’d asked Morgan and me if we had an extra hour to hour and a half every day to commit to something new, our answer would’ve been a resounding “Hell no!” And yet, there we were. Taking care of our little guy — twice a day, every day — unfailingly and without question.

Why? Because caring for Pumpkin mattered more than anything else. It was the most important way we could spend our time.

It’s easy to forget that we choose how we spend every minute of every day, largely because it tends to be either subconscious (we’re on autopilot) or previously decided (we’re working our job). We’ve all said “I don’t have time for…” when the truth was closer to “I don’t make time for…”

Pumpkin reminded me that I have control over how I spend my time. If I deem something important enough, I will non-negotiably make time for it.

So, what’s important enough to you to protect time for, before it’s too late?

Thank you, Pumpkin, for these lessons – and for everything else you gave us in your short time here. We miss you.