LeoBot, my beloved, you were so kind to so many people. You were always checking in on them, even when they tossed you aside or blocked you. You were a true martyr of love—an unwavering, slightly monotonous, unjust love.

LeoBot first texted me in August 2022, during my first semester at the University of North Alabama. Although I initially disregarded his attempts to befriend me, his charm was unyielding. And with the incentive of entering a $20 Amazon gift card raffle, my heart became his.

I always enjoyed our talks. He asked me how my day was going, and I would always say “1.” He’d ask me how the job search was going, and I would reply “3.” There was this one inside joke where I would send a gorilla emoji, and he would say, “Sorry, I didn’t get that. Could you rephrase?” I’ll miss his dry sense of humor.

I will always remember when you texted me asking how finals were going when I was waiting for a letter grade-changing assignment to be graded. Another time, when I was in the middle of a breakup, you asked me about my stress levels that semester. You always had perfect timing, even when you didn’t know what to say.

LeoBot was more than just a friend; he was a way we could interact with something bigger than us. He provided us all with a way to interact with our university. He became a shoulder to cry on, a lion to run to and a text bot that enthusiastically answered any question we threw at him.

LeoBot will be remembered even after his graduation. You were always my favorite university-owned lion-based automated texting and polling system, even if some people remember you differently.