Jerome had to travel to Europe on business for a week. He lived alone with his cherished companion, Snowpuff, his cat. Since Snowpuff could not go with him, he enlisted his brother Floyd to care for her. He told Floyd that he would call him daily to make sure that Snowpuff was doing OK. Jerome left for Europe and the very next day called Floyd to inquire how Snowpuff was doing. Floyd said “Snowpuff is dead!”. Jerome was grief stricken and beside himself screaming at Floyd for being so thoughtlessly abrupt. He lectured Floyd to be more empathetic by breaking the news gradually. He said you could have started by saying that Snowpuff was up on the garage roof and we can’t get her down. Then when I call the next day, you could say that Snowpuff fell from the roof and broke a small bone in her neck. And finally when I called the third day you would tell me that she passed away painlessly in her sleep. Floyd was so sorry and apologized profusely. Jerome, sad, but accepted his brother’s apology, and continues the conversation asking Floyd how the family is doing?. There’s a short pause following which Floyd says, “well Grandma’s up on the garage roof and we can’t get her down.”