They called yesterday; Lucy's remains were ready. I picked them up with much trepidation, but she sits on the desk beside me. At first, because I was uneasy, I thought I'd leave the box in the basement—after all, she slept there much of the time. Yet that seemed a bit bleak, so I brought her upstairs. Eventually I opened the cardboard box uncertain of what I'd find...a bag? A box? There was a gray urn. We decided we'll scatter some of her ashes here and some on one of the trails where we took her mountain biking. He said it's only ceremony and not really necessary, but we both feel its an important step—closure—to a dog life well lived.
Many of our friends have elderly dogs and I'm so sorry for what they'll also soon have to experience. When I was growing up, my mother would get another dog rapidly after we lost one. Her motive wasn't to replace the first pet, but to honor it by giving another "cast off" another chance. I couldn't agree more. When our first dog passed away after 18 magnificent years, I doubt I waited two weeks before bringing Lucy home. This time, however, I feel no urgency. Yes, I did tell my husband I'd try to wait a year, but even more than that is the time I need to heal. Lucy was sick for over two years with something (back, nose and cancer). I need to be away from that sadness for some time before I'm willing to take on another pup and its issues. For me, that means remaining dogless for some time.
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