Something I Forgot About Roxy

I had her cremated. I was filming “Monster-in-Law” at the time. A few weeks went by, and one evening, when I came home from work, I found an urn sitting on my hotel room table with a note, “Until We Meet Again.” Hmm, I thought, what could this be and who’s it from? I opened the urn and it appeared to be bath salts, so I ran a nice, hot bath and dumped some of the ‘salts’ into it. But a small fragment of bone fell out as well and I realized, with shock, they were Roxy’s ashes. I took the bath anyway and it felt good. The urn sits at my ranch, in my closet waiting for me to be buried so she can be put right in there with me.

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  1. That is quite the story to share!!! I’m sure Roxy didn’t mind one bit! Actually, after you settled in from the shock, it was probably a beautiful way to connect one last time. I’m not for sure what I would have done in the same situation!

  2. Great story!

  3. Awe. I’ve never seen ashes from a cremation. So, I wouldn’t know what they were either. I’ll bet it was a nice bath too. Gives new meaning to soaking it all in.

    For years, I’ve had this idea that I want to be cremated in an open funeral pyre in the manner of the Native Americans and have them play the song Spirit in the Sky.

    • My fantasy–when I was with Ted (we both wanted this), was to be placed high up on a scaffolding so the birds could eat our remains. You see that in so many paintings of the Native Americans, especially those of Bodmer. My book “Prime Time” goes into what my plans are now and why. I always imagined a memorial serivuce where the song Why do Cowboys Go When They die” would play. It’s hysterical. They die, are buried, they fertilize the soil, the grasses, the cattle or bison eat the grass and the cowboy/girl is pooped out, only to provide more fertilizer.

  4. Dear Jane Fonda: Have ALWAYS looked up to you, and love all your “stuff”…From a friend in a “red state”…LOL.

    xo

  5. Hello Jane,

    Roxy’s Ashes, that would be a great title for a book. Ashes are like that, my father was cremated, and I took took the ashes down too the ocean to set him free. I make a fast look see, to make sure no one was about, about 1/2 down the box of ashes a wind come up and blew the rest in my face, my father would have had a good laugh at that.

    with love and care,

  6. I thought that was your horse. You wrote about it recently being your horse’s ashes. However. An amazing story.
    Take care
    Jason

    • Jason, I didn’t cremate my horse(s). I buried two this year. They were great but I didn’t sleep with them or cry with them or cuddle or take them everywhere with me. It’s different.

      • Jane, I’m reading your previous blogs and I feel my dog ​​next to me, it gives me so much peace and comfort, thinking about losing he makes me sad, I’ll take your idea to be buried with her.

  7. Roxy is a lucky doggie and you a loving Mommy. Roxy may never leave if you keep treating her to warm cozy baths. Next time, perhaps bubbles will do:)

    On another note; I loved your book so much. Just finished it tonight. Especially enjoyed your chapter on sensuality (illuminating)your te’te a te’te with Mary Catherine Bateson at Upaya (was able to access your interview with her) and the marvelous story by Jean Houston.

    Wondering, will you and Mary Catherine be talking together any time soon? I would love to be present. Or may I connect with you in some way?

    I have joined with 3 other individuals to explore pathways that will lead us happily into Adulthood II / Act III.

    Would love to converse with you and with Mary Catherine as our group designs its process.

    Is this at all possible?

    Many thanks for covering so many of the aspects of aging in such a positive way.

    You are so appreciated, Jane.

    Onward with joy!

    My best,

    Flo Schell

    • Florence, Mary Catherine (and others) will participate with me at the TEDx conference Dec 1st.

  8. My own elderly dog saved my life more than once. At the turn of the millenium, I was very ill, and homeless in the Rocky Mountains of CO. Spice kept me from freezing to death by hugging her little bald belly to my back and placing her warm nose undern my neck. She had a friend named Wicker, who was a service dog. You can see pics and read about Wicker here: http://www.blurb.com/books/1273029

  9. Hi Jane,
    That sounds so familiar to me. I have my Daisy Mae’s ashes {reddish Golden Retriever} in an urn waiting for me, too. They are in the Curio Cabinet right behind me as I am typing this. She died at 8 and a half. Still cry almost every day. Was my best friend and soul mate. She too will be buried with me when the time comes.
    Peace.

  10. Hi Jane:

    It is an understatement to say I admire you. You’re fantastic. I enjoy reading about Tulea, Spencer, and Roxy.

    Just in case your readers would like to adopt dogs, cats and other critters from shelters and rescue organizations, there are many in need (including so-called purebreds—I personally believe the term “purebred” is a misnomer as wolves and tigers and so on are the only “purebreds” in my opinion).

    There is a great need for kind adopters to consider the multitudes of orphans who will be put to death in government facilities unless rescued or adopted. I have been networking for pet rescue for several years. My main blog is lizardmarsh.net. If one searches for lizardmarsh, a lot of posts are visible.

    Another blogger, more talented than I, has posted yesterday for sweet Abby, a 12-year-old dog who lost her home when her people went into foreclosure. Perhaps some of your readers will consider applying to adopt Abby? The contact info is in the post: http://beingstray.com/dogs/foreclosure-do-named-abby/

    Thank you very much! Again, I think you’re terrific and am awestruck by your sweet soul, marvelous talents in so many areas, and stamina.

    Liz in WA

  11. Jane, your story about Roxy is very touching. Her face is almost like that of an old woman–much character and wisdom. This month there is a wonderful book being published titled ‘Retrieved’ which follows and photographs the lives of twelve elderly dogs that participated in the search-and-rescue effort at the World Trade Center immediately after 9/11/2001. Nearly 100 loyal search-and-rescue dogs and their brave owners scoured Ground Zero for survivors. Just 12 of these heroic canines survive and they are being commemorated in the book.

    The pictures of these marvelous dogs, now in their twilight years, speak volumes. The dogs worked tirelessly to search for anyone trapped alive in the rubble, along with countless emergency service workers and members of the public. Traveling from Texas to Maryland, Dutch photographer, Charlotte Dumas, 34, captured the remaining dogs in their homes, where they still live with their handlers, a full decade on from 9/11. For us, a decade may seem like a substantial passage, but them it’s a lifetime.

    Noted for her touching portraits of animals, Charlotte wanted ‘Retrieved’ to mark not only the anniversary of the September 2001 attacks, but also as recognition for some of the first responders and their dogs.

    ‘I felt this was a turning point, especially for the dogs, who although are not forgotten, are not as prominent as the human stories’, explained Charlotte, who spends her time between New York and Amsterdam.

    ‘They speak to us as a different species and animals are greatly important for our sense of empathy and to put things into perspective.’

    As a great dog lover, this brought tears to my eyes.

    Keep the good work up!

    Brian

  12. Jane, My husband and I have three beautiful urns sitting on the mantle of our fireplace. The family has insructions when the last of us ( my husband, or me) dies all three little urns must go with us. I think it takes a certain type of person to understand that these animals are family to us. My Nia is seventeen years old now, a little deaf, but is great at reading “sign language”. I thank God everyday for the blessing he has given us and the time he has allowed her to stay with us. My last dog, Tekki, a Siberian Husky, was paralyzed and was in a Doggie Wheel Chair” for six years. She loved visiting Children’s hospitals and playing with the children on the floor. She also could be very gentle when she would lay her head in the lap of an elderly person in a rest home. She brought so much to my life that I do not have enough words to explain the experience. She’s waiting in her little urn to go home with me (or my husband).

    • Vicky, recommend a book that talks a lot about service dogs and dog’s emotional, even psychic abilities. I think it’s called “Theoughthe Eyes of a Dog.” it’s published by a division of Random House. Just terrific.

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