That Little Voice

As some of you know, I don't check my mail on a daily basis. Our mailbox is just about a half mile from the house, so I let it build up sometimes for a couple of days and then pick it up.
I have been very lucky that my mailbox hasn't been full of mail when the mailbox hoodlums come to play.
That is until Saturday night.

On a very rainy Sunday morning we went down to check the mail to find the mailboxes destroyed and our mail all over the road. Nice.
We couldn't even find one of our neighbors mailboxes, who knew where it went.
So, anyway, we pick up our wet soggy mail. This is nothing new, just the first time it had mail in it.
So... the last two days I've been trying to remember to run down and get the mail before I go to bed.

So tonight, I had already crawled into bed and was quite comfy when I remembered the mail. It was also pretty late. So, of course, I was thinking of reasons not to go.
"Oh what are the chances they'll come again so soon?"
"It's not raining, it should be fine"
"It's just bills..who cares??" :P

But, something in me told me to get up and go get the mail.
Thank goodness I did.

Brocks ashes were in there.
The company had mailed him to me since it was too hard to go pick him up. In the box was this pretty box with his name on it and his collar :(
My heart sank thinking I may have left him in there overnight and it's possible that it could have been destroyed. Ugh.

It's one of those times you're glad you listened to that little voice.