I picked George up and carried him over to a scale so that I could weigh him and then subtract my weight. He was not at all happy about that and after I was done, he stalked off, radiating catitude. The little shitcake went into my bedroom and took a massive dump on the floor.
This came back with Gracie's ashes:
We called the vet to ask about it. They confirmed that they made the paw print post-mortem. There was one for Rocky, as well. I cannot begin to tell you how touched we were to receive them. They will be treasured. But this shit is still too raw.
My heart goes out to you all over again. I have very few people that I can call a friend. I share your amazement and love.
ReplyDeletew3ski
That hit me hard too.
ReplyDeleteHope your doing better.
Eck!
Oh, yeah....when I lost the first of my many rescued ferrets to a massive cascade of organ failures, the vet office sent me a little plaque with a verse and her name. I bust into tears every time I looked at it for over a year.
ReplyDeleteAnd oh, those animals staging "shit-ins" to protest, little furry hippies, they are!
I feel for you. I still miss my daughter's cat as I do her.
ReplyDeleteAs for the 'deposit' you sure he ain't a dachshund in disguise?...
All The Best,
Frank W. James