Lassie

When my dog died, I was 19 years old and I had had her since I was 8. I took her collar, wrapped it in tissue, put it in a box, and stashed the box away in my dresser drawer. Now, too many years later, I still have Lassie's collar. It's in my file cabinet, along with with what I thought were important papers when I placed them there over the years. The other day I opened the box with my dog's collar. It looks the same as when it was filed, and it even has that doggie odor. I don't know what to do with any of those things. Maybe all that stuff will self-destruct, kind of the way Grandfather's Clock stopped tick-tocking.