I picked up Peanut’s ashes up from the vets while I was there for an appointment with Jessie. They were presented to me in a paper bag with handles. I walked the short journey home forgetting what cargo was in the bag, swinging it too and fro with Jessie on the lead in the other hand. Peanut’s last walk.
I put her on the windowsill in the conservatory and there she sat for a few weeks before we decided where to scatter her. We finally decided that every time we went on a favourite walk we’d take some of the ashes and scatter them.
The first time we did this it resulted in a kamikaze effort where one quarter of peanut was put in a sandwich bag and put in my handbag for safe keeping. During the walk we found a favourite tree and after a few amusing ‘Tales of Peanut’ we scattered her, downwind.
Continuing on our walk, and in the absence of a bin, I shoved the sandwich bag back in my handbag.
Fast forward to three days later. I’m in Aldi, I’ve proudly kept up with the checkout lady as she threw my goods at me and I go into my handbag. I pull out my purse like Quick Draw McGraw to keep up the pace and the sandwich bag flies out, attached to the zip, scattering the dregs onto Checkout 3.
I quickly put the bag back into my bag, stopping myself from saying, in a very British manner “Oh, terribly sorry, that was my dog” and just swept the counter and went on my way.