profound regrets

Last week, one of our pet rabbits died suddenly. It was unexpected and distressing, particularly for Baby and me as we had raised him from a little bunny. At three he was still fairly young; as far as we could tell he had been in excellent health, had had no recent accidents, and had been pretty chipper even the morning of his demise. I dropped him off at our vet's clinic for a gross necro; he found no evidence of disease or injury. We had to conclude, based on the rabbit's condition and my observations of his death that he had probably been felled by a stroke or some similar event.

The veterinary clinic, always solicitous, sent us a sympathy card which arrived today. I'm sure their intention was to express their support and console us, but I honestly don't think they intended the actual result of the card: it left me giggling. Oh, it's a nice enough card, with a peaceful photog of a cat and dog sitting in front of a sunlit window and some nice consolatory thoughts inside. But on the front, in cursive script with the name of the originator and quotation marks as if enclosed within were some great profundity, is a quote. It reads: "A pet is never truly forgotten until it is no longer remembered."

It's hard to argue with that kind of logic.