esrosedotblog

Booker came home again today.

A nice box with his "cremains" in it. This will match Franklin's box although I think that Book got a little bit more ornate with his. A black gauze bag and some pin things inside. We are not going to open the bag.

We aren't sure what we are going to do with the ashes. There have been a couple of scenarios.

One is to sneak into our old house's grounds at night and bury them side by side in the garden. I don't think we will do that.

Another is to scatter them in a significant place. That is still under discussion.

I hope that they have found each other wherever that is.

There is a lot of hokum about this and we try not to get to poetic about it. It is certainly so that we want them to be together and in some place other than here.

Isn't that where the idea of heaven comes from? The undeniable finality of death. Hard to accept.

In any case they are in our memories and minds and, in that sense, they are together.

It is astounding to me that they can be such different boys. Pure Airedales follow a strict set of characteristics and they were both show dog material (except for Booker's too large size) but personality wise, quite different. Habits not the same at all except a fixation on eating. Eating anything. Except lettuce leaves.

And, of course, they both loved to be petted and spoiled. Ride in the SUV. They were normal dogs.

We miss them and yet have such happy memories that our hearts are full of gratitude for the privilege to share their lives. I know they would have been good buddies in life. It is nice to think so anyway. Grrrrr.

Labels: Booker, Franklin