
The morning had started like any other, tinged with the usual mix of hope and mild anxiety that came with an aging pet’s vet visit. Buffy, our sweet, silver-faced girl, was scheduled for a routine dental cleaning. We expected her to come home a little groggy, maybe missing a tooth or two, but otherwise, our same old Buffy.
But Dr. Mac, with her quiet wisdom and deep understanding of the creatures in her care, had a feeling. Before the anesthesia, she looked closer at Buffy’s recent lab work. The call came later that morning, a gentle voice delivering news that felt like a physical blow. Advanced kidney failure. Anesthesia was too risky; it could push her fragile system past the point of no return.
Suddenly, the simple dental cleaning faded into insignificance. A new, heartbreaking reality settled in. We looked at Buffy, still wagging her tail when we spoke her name, still nudging our hands for pets, and knew what we had to do. The kindest, most loving act was to let her go now, surrounded by love, before the illness stole her joy and her will to live. We couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering, losing her appetite, her spark dimming day by day.
My first thought was Robbie. He adored Buffy, and she him. This decision, this final act of love, had to include him. I left immediately to pick him up from school. The car ride felt heavy, the usual chatter replaced by the quiet hum of the engine and the weight of what was to come.
Gathering my courage, I explained to him, as gently and honestly as I could, that Buffy was very sick, that her body was tired, and that we needed to help her find peace. I told him she wouldn’t be coming home with us this time.
His eyes filled, but his voice was steady. “I want to hold her,” he said, his small voice firm. “I want to be the one holding her when she goes to heaven.”
My heart swelled with a painful mix of sorrow and profound pride. Of course. There was no one else I would rather give that honor to.
We drove home, the quiet returning, but now filled with a different kind of understanding. I looked at him, this young boy carrying such a heavy truth with such grace. “Robbie,” I started, my voice thick with emotion, “I am so incredibly proud of you. Proud that you understand how important it is to take care of our old animals, and that helping them means making sure they never, ever suffer.”
He just nodded, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the windshield, already preparing himself for the difficult task ahead, for the final, loving embrace he would share with his dear friend Buffy as she journeyed home. And in that quiet moment, I knew that while our hearts were breaking, we were navigating this pain together, grounded in the deepest kind of love and compassion.
Lisa Marie Presley had a deeply emotional reason for keeping her son Benjamin’s body on dry ice after his passing.

After her son Benjamin passed away, Lisa Marie Presley kept his body on dry ice for two months for a very heartbreaking reason. Just under four years had gone since the terrible suicide death of her son Benjamin Keough, when Lisa Marie, 54, passed away in January 2023.
Lisa Marie, the sole child of Elvis Presley, departed from her twin children, Harper and Finley Lockwood, who are 16 years old, and her daughter Riley Keough, who is a star of Daisy Jones & The Six. Riley finished a book she had written, From Here to the Great Unknown, and it was published on October 8 following her death.

In her memoir, Lisa Marie discussed Benjamin’s sudden passing in 2020 and disclosed that she had held his body for two months before burying him in a casita bedroom. As she had explained to her father, Elvis Presley, “there is no law in California that requires someone to be buried immediately,” and she felt it was important to give Benjamin the time she needed to say goodbye.

Lisa Marie was just nine years old when Elvis passed away, so having his body at home and being able to visit and talk with him had been consoling. Throughout that time, she kept Benjamin’s remains at 55 degrees while debating whether to bury him in Graceland or Hawaii.

She acknowledged in the biography, “I became so accustomed to him being there, taking care of him… I was grateful that I could continue to raise him until I was ready to say goodbye, even if it was only for a short while longer.
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