Boris Is Home
I went to pick up Boris' cremated remains today... or "cremains" as I've heard them called. I personally think the word sounds stupid, but hey, what do I know? There's a sense of finality, relief, and happiness in having him back home. This past week has just been so surreal and it still feels like a bizarre dream. It feels as though it's been weeks, months, years since Boris was here with us. Death is so strange. Well, the feelings that surround losing a loved one are so strange. I'm not even going to try to analyze or explain them. They are what they are.
I was expecting his remains to come back in a tin box, as I've seen done in the past. But they came back in a wooden box... sort of a reddish oak. It too closely resembles a miniature casket. I think it's a bit creepy. I'm going to have to embark on the equally creepy task of finding him an urn that I like. There are a surprising amount of pet urn stores on-line. I wouldn't have guessed. But I spent an afternoon a few days ago looking at all sorts of urns and it's really astounding that none of them seemed to be good enough. I'm sure I'll find something that suits Boris. But the looking is not my more preferred type of shopping.
I took Roxie with me to get Boris. As we were waiting for the elevator to leave the vet's office, I was pleasantly surprised when the elevator doors opened and out walked an elderly lady with her Doberman. I rarely see anyone with their Dobermans in public, so it really was a rather unusual thing. And on today of all days. It made me smile and think of all the things Boris taught me to love about his breed. After the vet's, I had to stop at Home Depot and Roxie came in the store with me since that's one of the few stores that actually allows pets. An older gentleman asked what kind of breed she was and said she was pretty. And Roxie made friends with the cashier, which seemed to make the cashier's day. We also managed to get to Wendy's for some chicken nuggets and had a good walk at the park.
So one of the days that I dreaded in my mind so many years ago turned out to be ok. And ok is... ok.
I was expecting his remains to come back in a tin box, as I've seen done in the past. But they came back in a wooden box... sort of a reddish oak. It too closely resembles a miniature casket. I think it's a bit creepy. I'm going to have to embark on the equally creepy task of finding him an urn that I like. There are a surprising amount of pet urn stores on-line. I wouldn't have guessed. But I spent an afternoon a few days ago looking at all sorts of urns and it's really astounding that none of them seemed to be good enough. I'm sure I'll find something that suits Boris. But the looking is not my more preferred type of shopping.
I took Roxie with me to get Boris. As we were waiting for the elevator to leave the vet's office, I was pleasantly surprised when the elevator doors opened and out walked an elderly lady with her Doberman. I rarely see anyone with their Dobermans in public, so it really was a rather unusual thing. And on today of all days. It made me smile and think of all the things Boris taught me to love about his breed. After the vet's, I had to stop at Home Depot and Roxie came in the store with me since that's one of the few stores that actually allows pets. An older gentleman asked what kind of breed she was and said she was pretty. And Roxie made friends with the cashier, which seemed to make the cashier's day. We also managed to get to Wendy's for some chicken nuggets and had a good walk at the park.
So one of the days that I dreaded in my mind so many years ago turned out to be ok. And ok is... ok.
posted by TheDoberwoman @ 4:45 PM
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