I was taking care of a butterfly!

A few days ago, my aunt found a pretty butterfly in the pool. It was drowning, and she saved it just in time and called me over. It was a California sister butterfly, very pretty. I decided to name him Jarrett, and I looked him up, and it turned out that 2 major pieces of his wings were missing. So I decided to take care of him until he passed away. He didn't live very long; he actually just died yesterday. I kind of formed an attachment with him. I tried feeding him, but he wasn't really hungry because he wasn't really going anywhere, but he would eat a little bit. I'm trying to taxidermy him for the first time because I feel like I have some form of a small attachment to him. He was once living, and now he's something dead that I was trying to take care of. In a weird little way, he meant more to me than just a butterfly or a bug. He was something I had the chance to take care of; he was the chance that I had. To feel like I had some form of importance, I just wanted him to live a tiny bit longer. I was trying to give him the best quality of life before he passed. I tried to be kind to all things and animals. I just wanted to give him the best quality of life before he passed away, and I think I did. R.I.P. Jarrett...