Matt has an update on Eames on his blog.
Over the weekend, we decided against cremating him; choosing to bury him in our backyard, where he loved to wander around, and from where he would try to escape. (He succeeded several times over the years. We chased him down the street, and caught him when he ended up resting in the shade under a neighbor's tree.)
You know, it's odd: my father died two years ago and I never cried for him as much as I have cried for Eames.