About four years ago I bought a tri-plex building on cash I received from a car crash I was in. The appraiser told me it was a pretty sound building, so did the second, and third, so I paid cash for it. A ton of events happened, and long story short I fell into a depression, never ending up finishing renovations. To cheer me up, my friends would slide Japanese candy under my door. Sometimes I would wake up and notice it had been eaten.
One night in particular, I heard a noise and sat up to see what it was. A little mouse scampered away. Having a mouse in the house wasn't uncommon, having found out that the house was relatively infested with them, but this one was very tiny and missing an entire ear. I crawled out of bed and picked up the rest of my candy, leaving two or three by the door. The next night, I put more candy by the door and waited. The mouse came in, took a couple bites, and scampered off. I did this for a few days, until the mouse had become comfortable with my presence (and likewise) to the point where he would eat out of my hand. I named him Fidgit, because he always shook so much and hated sitting still.
A couple of months later of our friendship, a roommate of mine told me he had killed a mouse. He was so proud of himself, having been "tormented" by a mouse for a couple months and finally killing it. I cried. Cried, sobbed, totally confused my roommate level of tears. I shut myself back in my room and stayed under the cover all night.
Then, at around midnight, I felt little paws on my palm and opened my eyes to see Fidgit, gnawing on a package of my roommates crackers. I used my index finger and rubbed the space on top of his head and cried so quietly I thought my chest would explode. For the next few months until I moved out, Fidgit and I would have midnight snacks and sometimes, he'd bring me some of my roommates crackers. He was swift, avoiding months of traps, shoes, chemicals, and outright fists from my roommate. So my online handle became "Fidgitswift" in memoriam.