The Great Urn Search 2009

Ok, so our dog died last weekend. You can get the scoop here and here .

We weren't going to deal with the ashes because my son, the official dog owner, didn't want to...then he decided that he wanted to sprinkle them some place...then he decided he wanted to keep them which all led to a flurry of phone calls to find out where the dog was and to make sure that his ashes weren't already some place heaped with other dead animals. I'm telling you right now that is a series of phone calls no one should have to make.

We've had several discussions at our house about what to DO with the ashes and it has become a lesson in death and dying and how sometimes things aren't right or comfortable or easily gotten over. We've had a couple of discussions about hiring a hit man to take out the neighbors too, but mostly that's just been in my head.

By the way, I confronted them and they copped to leaving the gate open. Stupid neighbors.

So yesterday, I tried to go on an urn hunt because I don't want a box of ashes sitting in my house. Problem was, every time I tried to find one, I began to cry.

I miss my dog and ironically I've cried more for Diesel than I did when my dad died.

My dad's ashes, by the way, are at the base of the "Welcome to Dolores, Colorado" sign in Dolores, Colorado. I live in Seattle, my mom lives in Ohio. Why Dolores, Colorado? Because my mom's name is Delores which apparently is close enough to Dolores and my dad LOVED the crepes at the little German restaurant in town. What can I say, I don't understand it either, none of it was my decision.

So this morning....in a fitful fear of having a box of ashes at my house, I humbly asked my friend at work if she would call around and find me a cheap urn. Of course she said yes. She's a good woman and understands because of the heat, sorrow, and anything else I can make up as an excuse, knows that I'm falling apart.

I miss my dog. Stupid neighbors.