I just buried Jasper. This is our pet graveyard. It’s behind our garage, facing south. This used to be my parents’ rhubarb and strawberry patch. The rhubarb grows like a weed but I’ve gotten some of it dug out. For us, having a pet cemetery is more important than having a plant one can barely spell.
The temperature is about seventy above and the ground is quite soft. I dug through all that North Dakota top soil until I hit clay and created quite a hole. Then again, Jasper was quite a cat and despite my zealous digging, he filled it up. He’s wrapped in a clean towel and sealed with a large plastic bag. As I was carrying him from the garage he felt like he weighed about fifty pounds. I covered him with tender care, told him what a great cat he had been and wished him well on his travels. At some point Carjo will go visit him but not now, not while the pain is all too near.
To close, here’s a picture I took of Daniel, sleeping on the bed in the man cave. He spent a good part of the day outside, patrolling the perimeter and enjoying the sun. He is the king now and long may he reign.