The preschool pick-up report for Quynh that day was that she had been "emotional." On the way home that evening, Tai asked how long the "special medicine" would take to stop Nibbies' heart. He hadn't realized it would work right away and that Nibbles would not be there when we arrived home. The part Quynh struggled with was the cremation. She kept telling people Nibbles was going to be burned to death.
A week or so later we got the call to go pick up his ashes. The kids were prepared for this too, since we already have one dead cat's ashes in our house -- a cat who died long before Tai was even born. They were interested to see the little metal box, but a tad disappointed no to be able to open it and check out the actual ashes.
Then, just this week, some friends sent us a children's book about "forever cats" and how, even after they leave this earth they are forever your cat. We read the book at bedtime and it was immediately followed by an interesting discussion.
Quynh opened with, "But sometimes cats die." So I tried to explain that the book meant they are still your cat even after they die. Because you still love them. And Minh said something about them living on in your heart, and in your memory. Tai said, "Nibbies is still here. In a box. On the mantle."
Eventually, we settled on Nibbles being forever in our memories, in our hearts, and on the mantle.
