Well, friends, today my son picked up Baby's ashes, the blanket we carried her to the vet's in and they imprinted one of her paws into plaster of paris and it has her name engraved on it also. (a surprise I didn't expect) Baby is "here" in a beautiful mahagony wood box with a brass nameplate on it. I thought I would fall to pieces when my son walked in, but I did pretty good, just a "lump" in my throat. So I have her ashes, the paw print and a death certificate, her leash, collar. BUT: I want her! I want to feed her from the table, I keep thinking she is watching me from her bed in the hall while I'm cooking in the kitchen. I keep turning my head. Even tho our pets don't "talk", it's funny the emptiness I feel when I'm here alone. I mean, hey, she didn't talk to me, why does it hurt so bad? I am having trouble throwing scraps away, I keep thinking, she is going to walk up to me and wait for something to snack on. I imagine we ALL feel like this. Today is #5, and I keep thinking what am I going to do without her? But "life" goes on, doesn't it? Although, I will say, I'm feeling a little "peace", knowing she is "here" with me. I've set up a little area where I can see her and her belongings. The velvet bag that the box iwas in, says "In loving memory". I have it draped behind her and all her belongings and also a beautiful picture of her. Gosh, I'm rambling on and on. But this is therapeutic and Im glad I found all of you. I hope you all are resting easy this evening. Blessings to you all.

Hi BabySweets,

I'm just reading this thread after having replied to the other one. It's funny how we're going through the same thing. Every weekend, I make a huge pot of organic chicken vegetable soup for me to eat throughout the week. Now, whenever I'm done cooking the chicken and cutting it up, I keep thinking about how both Zeus and Zena would come running from the living room to sit by my feet and wait to be fed pieces of chicken. They were so good at it that they would come running before I even took the chicken out of the microwave. I notice though that I feel less sad at the memory than I do happy that I spoiled them in that manner. It brings me happiness to know that I made THEM happy in this way. Sometimes I take a step back and watch myself and the grieving process I'm going through, and I smile at how I don't always let these memories bring me down. Rather, they remind me of how well I took care of my loved ones.

I think our pets did "talk" to us, but it wasn't through spoken language. Every look in their eye, every whine, every paw on our knee was a method of communicating. Every time we petted them and kissed them and spoke sweet nothings to them, it was us communicating back. There is a tangible loss that we feel and for a good reason. How nice it was of the vet to give you an imprint of her paw in addition to her ashes. I only have an imprint of Zeus' paw because I asked for it. I didn't request an individual cremation for him, which I now regret. Setting up a memorial is very therapeutic. I am keeping up pictures of the both of them on my computer so I can look at them whenever I want as I'm sitting here.

Again, I hope you're doing well this weekend. I'm also glad that I found this site and found new friends to talk to.

All the best,

Laura