I dump the rice out and begin measuring again. I need to be sure all of her will fit inside the brass belly of the urn I imported from India. Reassuring myself that she’ll fit, I pour the rice out and begin scooping for real. Five heaping cups is the sum total of her golden life.
I screw the lid on tight and ask her if she’s ready to go for a ride. My heart sinks at the silence, but I grab the leash and her favorite rubber chicken anyway as we head out the door toward the open road ahead.