Feline Afterlife
It has taken me nearly two months, but I finally picked up my Blanchie's ashes from the people in charge of cremating animals in this town. The kind woman behind the desk made some sort of borderline snarky comment about how they were wondering if I'd ever be coming, before the requisite apologies for my loss. Then she handed Blanche over in a lovely little cedar box.
Indeed, if I were a proper pet mourner I'd have gotten her before today. But I'm not proper at much of anything, so there you go. As I type these words Blanche is sitting out on the front seat of my car in the hot sun without the windows cracked. I'm feeling vaguely guilty about this since she wouldn't have liked being there when she was alive, but I figure it's an improvement after two months at animal services.
I promise to make the rest of her afterlife much more comfortable.
Indeed, if I were a proper pet mourner I'd have gotten her before today. But I'm not proper at much of anything, so there you go. As I type these words Blanche is sitting out on the front seat of my car in the hot sun without the windows cracked. I'm feeling vaguely guilty about this since she wouldn't have liked being there when she was alive, but I figure it's an improvement after two months at animal services.
I promise to make the rest of her afterlife much more comfortable.