"I show them from the neck up," Guillen said. "I try to keep the eyes closed and their tongue in their mouth. I brush their hair."
That’s more than can be said about our pets in life.
(I used to drive past the cemetery in the article. At night, on my way to La Leche League meetings. That was the worst part of the drive. The place creeped me out in a StephenKingPetSematary sort of way.)
It seems a bit disordered to me. Not that I wrestle with the thought much. At this time I couldn’t afford to bury a human relative, so I don’t spend much time considering what to do with the dogs. Good thing the switch was off when Clyde chewed through the Christmas tree lights! (FYI – Clyde is a husky. Husky Dog. Not husky human.)