We picked up Sasha’s ashes yesterday afternoon. It was hard – insanely hard – and I broke down in the parking lot, startling the snowboard dudes who share the same complex. I carefully placed her in Lola’s bucket – even after Ed pointed out the “No Pets” sticker – and we drove home.

The urn they supplied is nice. It’s small and white and coated in a rainbow glaze, tying in with the Rainbow Bridge poem they gave me three times. She’s on my desk now – her favourite place in the world was on my desk, against my chest and draped over my arm(s) while I typed. It’s a small comfort, but she has a permanent spot on my desk now. I’m trying not to think of all the times I got annoyed and moved her off my desk – that won’t happen anymore. I’d give the world to have her pinning me down at my keyboard again.

the urn is strangely classy on my desk

The vet sent a nice card, and we got a certificate of cremation with her ashes. The cremators took a creative effort at spelling my name, coming up with “Kemlie” – that’s a new one. I opened the card while I was sobbing in the parking lot, and it made me laugh.

also hilarious: ed welsh

It’s strange – I never thought in a million years that I’d be glad to have her back in ash form, but I am. I know she’s home now, and won’t ever leave. It’s a weird sense of relief; one I didn’t know I was anxious about. I know she’s with me. It helps. I feel .. better. The tears are still there, but I know the day that I can remember her and smile instead of crying is coming, and that’s a comfort.