RIP Luigi April 15, 2000 - April 26, 2018 The vet's office called and said I could come by anytime and pick up my little guy.
When there, I took care of the business end, asked if she was SURE it was him and not mixed up with anyone else, and she said yes, the order was for a partition (I didn't ask, but I guess that's a placement in a specific place on the "table" so Luigi's ashes wouldn't get mixed up). I had a note I wrote out for the vet and asked the receptionist to please give it to the vet.
Then the receptionist asked if I was ready.
No, I'm not ready. I'll never be ready but I answered "Yes."
She went into the back area and came out and placed his box in my hands and gave me a hug and said words of compassion and sympathy.
Luigi is home now. The box is cedar, and the bag inside with his ashes seems so very small to me. I closed the box back up, then held him and kissed him. Looked at the clay paw print they made for me.
Many tears are flowing. I make sure I'm paying attention to Pearl, who is still with me, because I don't want my grief to limit my interactions with her and I know she misses him being around, too.
I KNOW I did the right thing, saying goodbye, the final grace and gift that was mine to give.
Luigi is FREE...he is whole, he is restored ...no more arthritis, no more discomfort. He is whole again, his teeth are restored, his joints are flexible and he can run !FAST! and smoothly, he can hear perfectly and he can see perfectly. He's FREE... and I am saying "Thank you, Lord, for this boy! Thank you!! and thank you for all the years I had him."
The picture I play in my brain is this:
Heaven is the place where all the dogs you've ever loved come to greet you.
I see him standing with an alert posture as he "wakes up" in heaven's sweet, soft green grass, and there are blue skies, puffy white clouds, a gentle breeze, and hey, look! there are Bijou and Magpie!
Bijou is running right at him to play "chicken" and to do the Bichon Blitz with him as they race around the meadow. Magpie is watching, as she did when those two played. Then, he runs back to his end of the Bridge and looks across, and I hear him say "I'll wait for you, Momma! I'll find you!" and I say "Go play now. I know you're waiting for me. Weegee always finds his momma!"
I am full of snot and tears, and full of love and so very blessed and grateful for my boy, who lived 18 years and 11 days . . . what a gift I was given!