I tend to cremate my dogs and scatter the ashes; I don’t care to have the ashes of dead dogs all over the house. Rose was the only dog whose ashes I kept, and I realized today that I have never looked inside the little jar Maria found to put them in. Since Rose and I reunited – I held her ashes right next to me in my office – I decided it was time to look.
Nothing was surprising in them; the ashes were mostly white power with some small bits of bone in them. I’m glad I didn’t scatter them; it is comforting to think of her as still being her somehow, even though my fondest hope is that she is romping in some golden pasture for all eternity.
I could never imagine her waiting for me at some Rainbow Bridge to come and throw balls for her all eternity. That seemed almost hideously selfish to me. And I warned the vet to ensure the crematorium didn’t give me those creepy toys and sappy trinkets they often send with the ashes. Rose would have hated that; she had a major meltdown when a groomer tried to tie one of those bandanas around her neck.
Rose was not a cuddler with me or anybody else. One woman talked baby talk to her on our porch, and she growled and showed her teeth.
So many people loved Rose and have written to me about her I decided to share her ashes with them.
It doesn’t feel grim or gruesome to me, although it is not something I would ordinarily do. Red is buried in our backyard right alongside where his sheep graze. There are no other ashes in the house.
That is where Red would want to be.
Rose was always happiest when she could keep an eye on me, as she had little faith in my ability to handle the farm alone or deal with the sometimes raucous and rebellious animals. She was disgusted when my Lab, Lenore, tried to befriend one of our rams and broke them up at every opportunity.
She was right about my needing watching. She bailed me out all the time. I’m not selfish enough to think Rose’s spirit is hanging around me; she has a lot of good work.
I wish for a better existence than that.
But her ashes do give me comfort and also warmth. We had quite a great run together, and I never want to wallow in it or forget it.
? Thank you Jon
I too have had many dogs. My sole mate dog, Toby, had such a special relationship also. I have cremated several dogs and their ashes are buried however Toby is in a special Etsy wooden box on my mantel with his paw print and a piece of his fur on top. it is a comfort to know he spiritually is still watching over me. He was so ready to go but hung on until the last crisis left me. I told him it was ok, that I would be ok, and he died one week later. My next dog was born the day after he passed. AJ was went to be here and is proving his devotion and worth more and more each day. We are developing “that bond”. Toby started it.
“We had a great run together” speaks to so many of us who have had dogs who run through our lives. Nothing quite compares to the richness of it.
No ashes just about 20 bodies buried under our big tree out by the lake!
“Rose in a “Storm” was one of my favorites about her. Gary Paulsen wrote about his dogs often, how smart and intuitive they were. And one of his saved his life, too, as Rose saved yours. The two of you could not have more different lives, yet you both have this wonderful understanding of the stewardship of your dogs and animals, and write about it so well.
I am glad that you kept Rose’s ashes. The day that you posted she had died, I remember bursting into tears in a coffee shop before taking my own dog on a long hike, during which I shed a few more. Her loyalty to you was awesome. I think she would approve of her ashes being near you.
Rose in a Storm Best book you’ve ever written!
Aweeeeee. I have lost many, and I savor the memories. They were all part of my family and are burried in my yard.
God Bless
I have kept the ashes of several dogs. It gives me a feeling of comfort to know they are near me.