I ran out to the vet's this morning to pick up food and meds for the cat. While I was standing at the counter waiting for paperwork to print I noticed a lady sitting in the waiting area without a pet. Shortly, one of the vet techs came out carrying a shoe box poked with holes and walked over to the lady. She took the box and opened it--and I expected some sort of baby talk to commence between the lady and the critter in the box. Instead I overhead this:
Lady: We won't be able to bury him until tomorrow. Do I just keep him in the 'fridge overnight?
Tech: Sure, that's fine. Just put him in a ziploc bag or something.