rainbow bridge

We had Zach cremated and last Friday I finally picked up his remains. They had been sitting at the vet's office since last Tuesday, but I lacked the desire to drive over there for a whole week. Frankly, I kept putting it off because I didn't know what to do when I got to the office. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to stroll up to the counter and say "Hi! I'm here to get the ashes that used to be my cat!" or maybe I was supposed to walk in there with a super sad look on my face and they would remember me and just slide the remains on over. At any rate, neither of these options seemed very appealing to me, so I just put it off until Friday morning.

I imagined the whole transaction as I drove to the vet's office and was quite proud of myself when I realized that the term "remains" was much classier than "ashes." I was not proud of myself when I pulled into a metered spot in front of the office and remembered that I didn't have any change.

The office was more crowded than I had ever seen it before and when it was finally my turn I didn't want to say what I was there for in more than a whisper, I thought it would upset the other people there. This, of course, resulted in a very loud "WHAT?" from the surly lady (who I never liked) behind the desk. So I belted out a hearty "I'd like to pick up the remains of my pet" and I could hear people in the waiting room behind me clicking their tongues and sighing "aaawwwww." It was kind of humiliating and I decided at that point that I would avoid eye contact with everyone. The whole transaction took about 20 minutes and it was annoying. They finally handed me a small cedar box with some papers attached to the top with a rubber band and a small gold lock with keys to keep the box shut. My frustration with how long I was standing at the counter disappeared when I saw the card on the box which read "in loving memory of Zachary." It hit me pretty hard, I realized that he was all gone and in this tiny little box. I collected my things and left.

Greg and I carpooled on Friday so I didn't have time to go home and drop the box off. Driving to work with cat remains in the back seat is bizarre. What's even more odd was that I felt weird leaving Zach's remains in the car while I was in the office all day, so I kept the box on my desk at work. Who says you can't bring your pet to work? I didn't open the box to look at the actual ashes until I got home, but I did look through the papers that were attached by the rubber band. One of the papers in the bunch was something that looked a lot like a prayer card, it had a picture of a rainbow and it said:

Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven lies the Rainbow Bridge.

When a beloved pet dies, it goes to the Rainbow Bridge. It makes friends with other animals and frolics over rolling hills and peaceful, lush meadows of green.

Our pets do not thirst or hunger. The old and sick are made young once more; the maimed and the ill become healed and strong. They are as healthy and playful as we remember them in days gone by.

Though happy and content, they still miss someone very special, someone they had to leave behind.

Together, the animals chase and play, but the day comes when a pet will suddenly stop and look into the distance... bright eyes intent, eager body quivering. Suddenly recognizing you, your pet bounds quickly across the green fields and into your embrace. You celebrate in joyous reunion. You will never again separate. Happy tears and kisses are warm and plenty; your hands caress the face you missed. You look once more into the loving eyes of your pet and know you never really parted. You realize that though out of sight, your love had been remembered.

And now, you cross the Rainbow Bridge together...

Now I'm not too hip with this Rainbow Bridge concept and I laughed a lot as I read about it. I'm not getting down on those people who think this is a touching sentiment, but I will tell you that I'm not one of those people. Neither is Alex, who had a lot of questions. Questions like: Why do they never have to get thirsty or hungry, why can't they just have an unlimited supply of food and water? Would a crazy cat lady get mauled by her hundred cats when arriving at the Rainbow Bridge? What if you go to Hell, does that mean your pets are forced to go there with you? What if your pet had multiple owners, does he just trot off with the owner who dies first? But I think what upset Alex the most was the idea that pets are forced to wait in limbo for their owners to kick it. He thinks it's really unfair, and if it's all true, he's convinced that Zach is going to be pissed when one of us finally shows up.