a box of Clyde will ease the pain and love will see you through
But it's just a box of Clyde or a ribbon for your hair Such a long long time to be gone and a short time to be there
Dennis picked up Clyde's ashes from the vet today. I was surprised to find out that they're in a little wooden box with her name on it. I was expecting something more like the cardboard boxes that we've gotten human remains in at St. Ned's. The first time the guy from the mortuary left a box o' cremains on my desk, I was by myself in the office and spent a good ten minutes staring at it and trying to figure out what to do with the surprisingly small package. Awkward. Since then, I've gotten smoother about it and just take the deceased over to the church until they can be put in the wall in the memorial garden.
So, now we have a Box of Clyde, which is amusing because we used to make up new lyrics to Box of Rain about her when she would hop into a box. She liked boxes which were, technically, too small to hold her.
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