A few weeks ago, we discussed our fears on leaving our cats when we leave home for work. One of my fears when I have to lose one of my cats is that the private cremation will get muddled in some way and I will either find out that it wasn't done or the ashes will get lost. I go over and over my wishes with the clinic, asking repeatedly if they understand, and even then worry about it.
Today, I stopped at the emergency vet on my way home to collect Ted's ashes. They couldn't find them. The assistant brought out a box with Teddy on it, but it was a dog and the name wasn't mine. She checked three times, since I stood there looking shocked, my worst fears seeming to be realized. Then someone else got involved and they checked a book that showed that Ted's ashes had been delivered to the clinic. After the office manager also got involved they realized that Ted's ashes had been given to the people who had lost a dog called Teddy.
This was somehow worse than when they couldn't find them, since they may have been misplaced at the clinic. At least I knew they were there somewhere. Thoughts of what people do with their pet's ashes came crashing into my mind. Would they have buried them? Would they have scattered them? Would it be possible for me to still collect them if that had happened. I imagined myself scraping up soil, it sounds silly but I was determined to collect the ashes somehow. As they called the people who had taken Ted's ashes, I tried to impose calm on my mind because I was afraid of how I would react if the ashes were gone. I couldn't even breathe as I watched the assistant walk back to me from the phone. Relief! They had Ted's ashes. Hours later, I still feel relief, and I still shudder as I think about what could have happened.
