A Eulogy for Timmy

Phillip Peacock

I regret I must tell you about the recent life and whereabouts of our dearly departed mascot, Timmy Timberwolf, who is dead. For days there were many explanations for his disappearance, until at last we knew the truth. A truck driver found him on the side of 1431, entangled in a massive, drunken brawl at a marked deer crossing, where he had tried to head off the approaching head-lights just too quickly. Poor Timmy can requiescat in partes, while we the living can lay to rest those wild and sordid fantasies people have conceived of in these past few days. Rumors reflect alternative views on Timmy’s death – students think things beyond belief about the tragedy – each of us wishes he could have chosen a better end than the tail of an after-party romp. Yes, there may be some truth in them. Perhaps it was a lab experiment gone awry that led to his disappearance, maybe Timmy was trapped after physics class when a black hole was created too big for him to escape.

But beyond that, I can hardly mention the writing in the bathroom stalls.

“Paintball him until he bleeds green blood.”

Or how the autopsy revealed letters lacerated into his side with five-inch claws.

“I heart T-wolves” said the marks left by the Leander lion.


You may have seen the newest menu item at the local sushi shop, “Timberwolf Tuna” whose ingredients the chef there has still refused to disclose. Mark my words, the perpetrators will be brought to justice; until then, we must remember him by what little pieces that we have left.

I can tell you, the photos posted on Myspace and Facebook are false. Timmy was not seen with that flock of deer until the night before last, no, not even during the powderpuff game. I tell you that night he was chaperoned to Project Graduation, safe and sober. Nor was he stoned during his cameo in that last comic of the Wolfpack, where he appeared beside an equally zombified Jeff Lowe. Experts conclude that Timmy was the victim of a secret enclave of vegan vampires, whose perverse form of necromancy involved re-animating the corpses of lifeless vegetables and innocent timberwolves. I’m only telling you this because it’s true.

In closing, I would like to offer this haiku, given to me by the Animal Society:

Listen to the wind

It brings murmurs and tears

Your presence will be missed, Timmy

Our bowls of rice are empty.