Post FUNeral reception...

At the risk of further offending all my reader-

So, after the funeral there was a reception, and we worked the room as we were supposed to do.

Two funny things happened.

My sire died when I was little, some 30 years ago. (That wasn't funny, wait for it.)

Of the mourners, maybe two dozen came up to me and said the same thing, something along the lines of:

"I was sorry to hear about your mother. I knew your father, he was really something."

Delivered as a nine year old might say,

"I finished brushing my teeth. And TOMORROW"S CHRISTMAS!!!!

Interesting that at her funeral, he was the one on their minds. Both my littermates remarked on the same phenomenon, so it's not just me this time. About twice a year, someone seeks me out or hears my name (I'm actually Staghounds III, he was Staghounds Jr.) and tells me what a fine fellow he was. He must have been.

The second funny thing, a former neighbor a few years younger than the departed came up to me:

FN- "I was sorry to hear about your mother."

Staghounds- Yes ma'am, thank you for coming."

"I heard that you divorced a few years ago, is that true?"

"Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Well (name of daughter) always thought you were cute, and she's not attached either. Here's her number, give her a call if you like."

Come to think of it, there was another daughter-of-a-friend-of-the-departed who was decked more for a club than a cathedral, and who was awfully friendly.

(Not that I'm looking, but a compliment is always welcome.)

We are practical and direct people. I like that about us.

And the pineapple was ripe and fresh.

Later we went to the old drug store by our neighborhood. My sister sat beside a stranger who had tater tots, a delicacy unavailable in her flash European capital of residence. So she asked him for one and he said "What?"

"Come on. We just went to our mother's funeral."

Later, she looked around nostalgically and sighed.

"Ah, the drug store. Yet another place where our mother us in public."

Good times.