R.I.P., Miss Kitty.

Its hard losing things. A loved one, a girlfriend, a favorite pen. This week, I am finding out what its like to lose a pet. Miss Kitty, our family pet, is sick and has to be put down. This is right before I make it home for the first time in five months. Thinking about Miss Kitty a whole slew of memories come back, and I think maybe the scariest thing to think of is with loss we are forced to think of memory. The idea that a person, animal, or object can serve as a vessel for memory can be disconcerting. I know that memory lives in our own minds, but we tend to forget, or other things take up space in our heads; if that happens we can always rely on some sort of physicality to help the memories flood back. If this physicality is lost, can we rely on ourselves to think about our pasts?

There is an option of having the body to bury, having the animal cremated to take home, or having the animal cremated and taken care of at the vet’s office. When thinking of the choices, what is gained from the corporeal presence or even an object that could encase the ashes? The memories have been had, and anything more seems selfish.