Trivialising grief

Francis suddenly starts sneezing and cannot stop. It's a late onset allergic reaction. "Hay fever," he says miserably.

I'm not so sure. I think over-exposure to head hunters may be the trigger, exacerbated by the high seasonal superlative count in the recruitment ads.

"Consummate professional," I say to him. "Results-oriented."

He sneezes more each time. There's no help for it. From now on, he's going to have to attend all interviews in an isolation suit, including ear protectors.

Just in the nick of time, I have identified another exciting career opportunity for him. I come across this ad somewhere in the further reaches of cyberspace:

'WHAT IS PET LOSS COUNSELING?
'Pet bereavement counseling is individualized to meet each client's needs. Every counselor has a different approach. We use talk therapy to identify, and help you cope with, the emotional stages of grief. You may learn how to deal with insensitive individuals who trivialize your grief, a pet's terminal illness, and the difficult decision of euthanasia. We use healing tools, such a journal, planning your pet's final arrangements or funeral, and your spiritual beliefs.'

'Talk therapy' would presumably refer to the revolutionary art of speaking to somebody.

What with Bad Lindy's distinctly casual approach to dead animals (she was born to trivialise grief, and if there's ever a national 'Week of the Insensitive Individual' I suspect she'd be top choice for mascot) there's got to be a suppurating mass of undealt-with grief just waiting for Francis and his shiny case of healing tools.

"I'm not talking to people about their stupid hamsters," he says. Oh, dear. I greatly fear that Francis, too, may need to sharpen up that talk therapy before he can be let loose on a mourning public.

I go up very close to him. "Customer-facing. Strong people and networking skills," I hiss, meanly. His eyes start to stream. "You see," I say. "You should think about it."

I wonder if there's a way of combining pet loss counselling with Megadik?