There exists a rainbow bridge
Where my old dogs wait
(bad Haiku #133)
I have owned some wonderful dogs in my lifetime. The ones who have gone on now exist in ash form in little polished oak boxes, their remains placed there after I had them cremated. They are my family, after all, I could do nothing less.
Those little oak boxes will be buried with me in the family vault. The Catholic Church does not allow animals in their cemetaries, but that's just tough shit - my dogs are going with me. Period. I want them in my coffin when I get planted. My family, my pack, my furry children will be buried with me. The rest of my family members, if they're aware, will think it typical of me, and have a laugh, and possibly a snort and a beer back - if beers & shots exist in the afterlife.
One of the most difficult things I ever had to do was put my Miniature Pinscher, Scarlett, down. She was the most fabulous dog I ever had. She was blind, but that didn't slow her down a bit. She was smart as a whip and I swear, intuitive. I still miss her to this day. She was 15 and had congestive heart failure. It crushed me to do it, but I took her to the vet wrapped up in her little blanket, bought her the pink needle, and had her cremated the same day.
Sometmes I think people should have the option of the pink needle. If the pain is too hideous, the cure too imposible, the ravages of the disease too much to bear, I think people should be able to choose the ends of their own lives. And I don't want any mail telling me what a Nazi I am, dammit. This is my opinion and I'm entitled to it. So there.
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