In July 2020, my beloved cat Maro crossed the rainbow bridge.
I didn’t hold a formal funeral, but I spent one last night by his side—holding his paw, speaking softly to him, and gently stroking his head and body. I told him, “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”
The next day, after the cremation, I was asked, “Would you like to collect the ashes?”
I said, “No.”
This is the story of why I made that decision.
A Decision Shaped by Past Experience
Years ago, my family had a large dog. Back then, pet funerals and cremations were not common in Japan. I contacted a crematorium, and they cremated our dog in what felt like a back entrance of the facility.
At that time, there was no option for collecting the ashes. Instead, our dog’s remains were placed directly into a shared memorial tower for pets.
Even now, I sometimes visit that memorial tower. Each time, I feel as though I can meet my dog again there.
When Maro passed away, I wanted him to be laid to rest in the same way—together with other animals, in a peaceful place where I could visit.
Believing the Memorial Tower Was Best for Maro
I believe that adopting a pet is a matter of fate. The time we spend together is like borrowing their life for a while, and they are borrowing ours.
When that time comes to an end, they return to their true home. I believe that home is filled with friends, favorite snacks, and warmth—it’s what we call heaven.
By placing Maro’s ashes in the memorial tower, I felt I could send him there without any lingering attachments, so he could be truly free and happy.
Please also see my thoughts on Maro here: “You don’t have to wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge”
Letting Go of the Physical Remains
I’ve never felt the need to hold on to ashes—human or animal—because I believe the body is only temporary.
Maro’s bones are not Maro himself. To me, Maro is now like the wind—soaring high in the sky, sometimes visiting me, sometimes eating treats, sometimes playing with friends, wherever he likes.
Cats should be free, and I want Maro to remain free forever.
What True Happiness Means
What matters most is making a decision you can feel at peace with.
If keeping your pet’s ashes at home makes you feel comforted, then that’s the best choice for you—and it’s likely the best for your pet as well.
When I deliver my knitted memorial cushions to customers, they sometimes send me photos of their pet’s altar. In many pictures, a small urn is placed beside the cushion. Reading their heartfelt messages makes me truly happy to know my work can bring comfort.
Voices from Our Customers
— From Maru’s owner
— Another customer
