It was one of those walks you just keep putting off, one excuse after another. Today we just couldn’t think of any. It was a perfect summer evening with enough sunlight to keep the mossies’ from eating us alive.
“Come on, you get the dog and I will give Matthew a shout,” said Gill.
I knew in my heart she was right of course, sometimes you have to just have to get on with things.
I entered the breakfast room and could see the box was in the same position it had been for the last couple of months, sitting happily content on top of the corner unit. I opened the top and removed the bag from inside, once again surprised by its weight and size, similar to a heavy bag of sugar. ...view middle of the document...
We had all agreed this was the perfect spot, having featured in so many family photographs. Scooby as a pup, Scooby in a sit, Scooby and Mat in the snow, Scooby covered in mud. So many treasured photographs. A never ending list, our own family time line. This was where we would spread Scooby’s ashes.
We decided to say our own goodbyes before each taking turns to tip the ash into the water.
“Thanks for everything Scooby, you were a great friend,” I said, before tipping the bag over the edge of the bridge. The contents, which looked like fine white grit, poured out and immediately coloured the river below, some floating on top while the rest sank covering the shallow bed. Within seconds fish appeared in the cloud, hungrily feeding, pushing each other out of the way in their frantic frenzy.
“Bloody cheek, their eating him,” said Gill.
We all laughed because we knew he wasn’t really there. He was hopefully back in a new valley somewhere. A young pup, fit and healthy like he used to be, not struggling like the last few years. Fit and healthy like thirteen years ago. The spreading of his ashes was for our benefit, not Scooby’s. It gave us closure and made us feel happy.
“They are having a right good nosh up,” Said Mat.