Questions & Answers

I picked up Keen's ashes today. Having him home, albeit in this form, is both sad and comforting.

Because it means, it really is over.

The necropsy - which lasted 2 weeks - was unable to find a cause of death. My friends have been kind, refusing to speculate until the pathologists' work was complete. Countless things have been ruled out, all of which are good news. No trauma, no disease, no infection, no tumor, no deformities. The sole unusual finding had no identifiable cause, and didn't kill him. Detailed toxicology was Negative. Brain and heart perfectly Normal.

But the cause of death remains: unknown.

And unknowable. An uncomfortable state. The lack of a "smoking gun" is indescribably frustrating. My heart still screams for someone or something to blame; my mind is resigned to the fact that there isn't one. I was reminded, sometimes medicine just is more art than science. While I am left with unanswered questions, the answers we did get are good news for Keen's littermates, for his parents, for his half-siblings.

And that will have to be enough.

So we move forward. This little box of his ashes, with his collar and tags buckled around it, joins others on my bookshelf. Next to friends he never met on this side of the Bridge. Tommy, Tosca, Mac... and now Keen. His binder retired to a lower shelf... Rituals, these actions. I do find some cold comfort in them.

Sleep softly, sweet boy. Chase them bunnies in the stars.

Keen at 8 mos., at a fun run. Oh, the things he won't get to do...