In 1980, an ocelot is sneakily caught and killed in the jungle east of Quetzaltenango, Guatemala, to sell its fur to tourists. I am one of these tourists. The fur then lies senselessly for nearly four decades in my apartment. Finally, clothes moths attack the fur and destroy it. However, I can not bring the fur to bury and so it is now on the surface of a mound to become soil.Every day I visit it with a bad conscience.