Rasputin's Ashes

This morning we picked up Rasputin's ashes from the vet clinic. The ashes are in a small metal tin -- about four inches tall and two inches wide and with a pretty floral print stamped into the metal. It looks like a tin that might contain breath mints or little wrapped candies. The vet or crematorium had clipped a tuft of his hair, and that was in a small plastic bag attached to the little tin. The tin was nestled inside a white plastic "gift bag" that had a cat-paw print all over it and two woven handles.

The label on the bag indicates that the ashes inside belong to "Quilp." I asked my husband why he used that name, which is a nickname our son had given Rasputin when Rasputin outdid himself with mischief. (Quilp is a "bad guy" in Charles Dickens' The Old Curiosity Shop.) Apparently, my husband couldn't bring himself to say "Rasputin" (another "bad guy") to the vet clinic receptionist, and so fell back on the nickname, not realizing that Quilp was even more rascally than was Rasputin. But then the receptionist had probably never heard of the fictional Quilp (or maybe not even the historical Rasputin), so didn't realize the implications.

Now the little tin sits atop the tall book shelf in the living room and overlooks all our activities. Next to Rasputin's ashes is a small cardboard box (I've never been able to open it) that's from the pet crematorium. The box contains a tin or a small urn that holds Thomas Jefferson's ashes. (I'll write about him one of these days. He was my soulcat who died nearly three ago. I still choke up when I think about him.)

Welcome home, Rasputin!