Louisville Magazine

SEP 2018

Louisville Magazine is Louisville's city magazine, covering Louisville people, lifestyles, politics, sports, restaurants, entertainment and homes. Includes a monthly calendar of events.

Issue link: https://loumag.epubxp.com/i/1019738

Contents of this Issue

Navigation

Page 37 of 124

figureweightloss.com louhomeless.org LOUISVILLE MAGAZINE 9.18 35 The black door rises with a low grinding sound. The machine's belly looks familiar, like a brick oven in any upscale pizzeria. Through an opening in the back, a purple-orange flame roars down, as if a dragon is suspended from the rafters. The flame doesn't touch the animals; instead, it heats the cremator to 1,650 degrees. Scott gently lifts Vivi, putting one hand beneath her head and neck as the other cups her hind legs. He carries her limp body, like how a nurse hands a mother her newborn — not intimate and cradling, but more like a careful courier respecting the passage. The 37-year-old stands 6 feet 6 inches tall and maintains the bulk of his days as a collegiate offensive lineman. His size miniaturizes Vivi to toy-like proportions. He lays her on her side and touches a black button to lower the door. A magnet holds Vivi's paperwork on the cremator, as to avoid a guessing game about who's inside. Some pet owners like to watch. "Not everyone is so trusting," Scott says. They want to ensure it is their loved one they'll receive when all is said and done. Pet owners sit in a room that smells citrus-y, with four salmon-hued chairs, a box of tissues and a small table draped in white linen, for holding prayer services before cremation. (The secretary at Scott Funeral Home doubles as a minister.) There are two windows with blinds; tug the string on one to witness the raw, industrial side of saying goodbye to your pet. (The other window allows viewing of human cremations. Yes, some like to see that too.) Many pet owners struggle with letting go. Such companionship feels eternal. It's all joy and loyalty and love, and then one day it's over, the cruelest of cliff drops. "I've seen people more upset about their dogs than their family members," Scott says. In about an hour, Vivi's cremation will be complete, her ashes swept into a stainless-steel container and then packaged into a box or urn of her owner's choosing. She may be on the other side now, but she'll also soon head back home. — Anne Marshall

Articles in this issue

Links on this page

Archives of this issue

view archives of Louisville Magazine - SEP 2018