PETS

The Kitten My Old Dog Sent

They choose us

Bounder the kitten moments after she bounded into our lives. — Author Photo

I walk on a debris flow from the 1980 Mt. St. Helens eruption. Treetops once high in the air are now at eye level. Ashy sediments ooze between my toes. My kids dig channels and sculpt a volcano around a bottle filled with baking soda. We funnel vinegar into the bottle and laugh at the result. Unlike the 1980 lateral explosion, equivalent to a nuclear blast, our eruption barely oozes over the sides of our sandy mound.

“Hey, kids. Let’s take a moment and spread some of Big Head’s ashes in this awesome spot,” I say.

Big Head was the yellow lab who picked me to be his Dad when I lived in New Zealand. He had a good run and passed after 14 years. We’ve been spreading his ashes at spots new and old. We each toss a small handful of his remains into a calm area of the Toutle River. The dense bone fragments sink and stand out against the dark bottom. Tearing up, I watch the film of ash on the surface elongate and undulate before being swept away. My blurry-eyed moment doesn’t last long.

“I’m hungry, Daddy.”

“Well, let’s head back to camp.”