Every so often something that little bit different comes along – a blip in the already widely varying continuity.
It was in a nice little housing development. The residents had barely been in their new homes for a twelve-month before their cul-de-sac was christened by the intrusion of bereavement and the consequent appearance of undertakers one Sunday afternoon.
The four of us stood round the body lying on the garage floor.
“How old was she?”
“Hmm. Not too bad an age then…as these things go.”
“No. We can’t complain.”
“Still a kicker when it comes though isn’t it?”
“Are you going to stay out here, or would you prefer to be out of the way?”
“No, we’ll go back into the lounge and let you carry on. You’ll let us know when you’ve got the ashes?”
“Yes. We’ll get the cremation arranged a.s.a.p and we’re down that way again at the end of the week with a funeral so we’ll collect the ashes at the same time.”
It’s not the first time I’ve arranged a pet dog cremation and right from the outset I found myself immersed in a parallel universe laden with all the concerns of human disposal. The uneasy manner in which the small independent pet crematoria view their larger rivals is every bit the mirror image of the human funeral profession, as I discovered when a proudly small-time provider told me that if you leave it to your vet to arrange, the surgery will normally have a contract with a particular animal crematorium – often a large facility with wide geographic coverage, a fleet of vehicles and staff resources that enable them to offer competitive pricing.http://www.over50choices.co.uk/community/ashleys-blog/postid/255/paws-for-a-moment-to-reflect