A Problem Solved

Where shall I bury my poor old pet ?
Now that I've brought her home from the Vet.
She had to be taken for one final visit,
I think that was right, but you tell me; is it?
Her god, he has taken her spirit, now free,
But her poor lifeless body, he left that to me!
O where shall I bury my poor cat's remains ?
Now that, forever, she's free of her pains.

There's a patch on my lawn where the grass is worn bare:
I suppose I could dig a nice grave for her there.
Though I think she'd prefer to be under the rose,
But a headstone just there would entangle the hose.

My neighbour, who's of a most practical type,
Suggested I "buck-up and cut out the hype!"
He gave me a black bag to wrap her up in
And offered to put her in his wheely-bin.
With the logic of which I could but agree
Because, as you know, it's a service that's free.
But I felt that my puss-cat deserved something finer
than ending her days in a poly bin-liner.

When he heard of my problem the Vicar had said
"There's a spot in the Graveyard just by the old shed
Close to the place where my dog Tray lies buried.
If you wish you can dig her grave there if your worried."
But somehow I think that the thing she'd hate most
Would be lying so close to the Vicar's dog's ghost!

Could I ask her, she'd say being food for a fox
Was better than being nailed-up in a box.
And although that is the most natural end,
I just could not do that to such a good friend.

But I see lots of wood on the old bonfire patch
So the whole thing can, surely, be solved with a match
Aided perhaps with some paraffin oil.
T'would be better than rotting away in the soil.

So I don't need to bury my dear old pet
And never again need she go to the Vet.
Her body has joined her spirit so free
And her name I have carved on her favourite tree.

Nokomis

(With apologies to Rev. Richard Harris Barham alias 'Thomas Ingoldsby Esquire')