Burying Felix
by frederick george, victoria
clerk, Aged 45
when Felix died, i just freaked. no more warm lap by the fire; no more comforting company in bed at night. so what was i supposed to do now ? i decided on a good old pre-war laying out.
choosing a nice box, i lined it a towel, adding bunches of lavender, mint, rosemary & basil. lastly i gently placed him in a curled up position amongst these herbs he had loved to sniff while alive.
leaning the box on an angle against the hearth, i surveyed my handiwork. it looked just as if he were only asleep.
for a couple of days i went about my usual chores, saying "hello" to Felix every so often.
next came the hard part: the actual burial, and i just couldn't face putting the poor old thing into the ground in midwinter. so i put the lid on the box, popped him into the deep-freezer, and left him there until the spring of that year.
the burial was a fine affair. he would join a large group of passed-on pets in the little cemetery i inherited from the previous owner of the house; with a lovingly chosen rock placed on the grave (which would also serve to keep out any dogs or foxes which might be attracted by the smell).
i still think fondly of old Felix, and this old-fashioned way of coping with his death made losing him that much easier. i have also discussed this with many people, who while maybe initially thinking "how odd", later realise that these customs have only been abandoned to make death a sanitary, sterile experience, by which we are divorced from the reality of proper grieving and coping with the loss of a loved one.
Copyright © Australian Museum, 2009