collection at the vet, a small deceptively heavy metal box. it's sealed tight and contains dust from whatever is left of pans corporeal form.  
ashes they say but it may as well be dust.
i transport it home and place it on my table. 
maybe i'll just bury it in the garden and plant some pansy's around him, a memorial. maybe i'll unscrew the screws that seal the box tight and let the wind carry the scattered ashes where it will. it's a strange business, i feel like pans still with me, standing by my side, i still wake up and go to feed him, i still check out the back to see if he has water and see if he is snoozing in his spot. i still sometimes go to call his name, i still keep all his things. i gotta let it all go, ghost dog pan can hang around but i need to let everything go.