For over a week I put-off heading to the vet's to pick up Barney's ashes. I figured I'd be walking out sobbing over a cat-sized, cat-weighted box in my hands. Wasn't ready for that. I'd almost wished I hadn't opted for his ashes back -- maybe it would have been easier if he was just gone. But dammit, I paid a ton for it and the cheapskate that I am I wasn't going to let good money sit on the back shelf in some office. I needed a ride after work anyway so I threw on the backpack and headed to the vet's on the way out. If I was a wreck I'd just pick him/it/them up and head home.
That's IT? She handed me a small white box about 3" wide, 3" deep and an inch and a half tall. Big enough to fit a superball, but lighter in weight. Huh. I hadn't expected a curiosity.
So, we went for a ride, Barney and I. He finally got to see the urban greenway and lakes near home from the back of my shoulders.