My family has always dealt with anything with humour, so when one of the additions to our life passed away a week ago I was informed via text message, Francis is on the roof. Yes it is sad to say the family bird is now in the great aviary in the sky pooping on the cats of hell. Yes Francis, as the Monty python boys would say is an EX parrot.
Francis is on the roof, you say? how is one to arrive at the logical conclusion of the passing of ones pets, from the ambiguous “Francis is on the roof”?
It all comes back to one of the many terrible jokes my father told me when I was a young man which became part of our families identity.
It all starts with an English lord returning from the doctors after hearing the bad news that he was getting too old to work the land, that it was all too much stress on his body, and for his own health he had been advised to hire a caretaker.
So the old lord goes through the paper and finds Dave, the Australian farmer, who is fantastic a little slow but brilliant on the farm, after a few weeks, letting Dave settle in the old lord moves into the town to enjoy the quiet life and leaves his number with Dave just in case anything goes wrong.
Anyway a few weeks pass and the old lord receives a phone call, “hey its Dave from the farm, I have some bad news your cat is dead”. The lord is taken aback, “The cat!,” he cried, “that cat has been with me for 12 years, I loved it like a son, and now it’s gone.” The old lord sobbing into the phone, says to Dave, “look I am glad you told me but that was way too blunt, you need to let me come to terms with it. Next time something like this happens this is what I want you to do. Firstly say something like the cats on the roof, once I am ok with this move on to something like, the cat is in the vet’s care, once I come to terms with this, try the vet did all he could but sadly the cat passed away. It would make the shock a lot less.’ So Dave repeats the instructions back, says he will try his best to reduce the shock of any future passings.
Once again a few months pass, and the old lord gets a phone call. “hey it’s Dave from the farm.” “Ok Dave what has happened “said the old lord. To which Dave Responds, “Well your mum’s on the roof”
So for pets, family members, or friends the shock of death has always been forwarded on the same way. I know it seems morbid, but our philosophy has always been one of celebration of a life remember good moments, friendships, hang shit on people if they succeed just as much as if they fail. Call your mate a dopey prick, but if someone else said it be the first into the Frey.
You can’t take life to seriously or you will never get out alive!