[Snowflake]

Well, on reading the report on mice age, I wondered, how in the heck did she get through bag check with a bag of cremains?

I remember when we picked up my friend Gene at the mortuary to take him out for a final lunch at his favorite restaurant. I opened the box to transfer the urn to another container, not realizing the plastic box was the urn, the poor cab driver howled with laughter as I exclaimed out loud, My God Gene, you look like a bag of Johnny Cat. He did, too. After 15 years in our dining room, we spread him in Golden Gate Park last year and said farewell one last time.