It had stopped working long ago, changed out for a backup, which itself had been replaced, and so on. Its memory card was gone, shuttled on to newer copies through the years. But the rest of it is just as it was when he arrived. You turn it over in your claws. Every tactile detail is apparent as you gently dragged a quartz-tipped talon across its edges, handling it one last time. With a reverence reserved for newborn foals, you place it into the pit you'd dug.