A squirrel fell from the tree onto the street. He rolled the wrong way and fell from his bed. He fell a long way and hit his head,poor little thing,now he is dead.
I saw him, lying there on the street. I couldn't pass him by and do nothing. He's dead and the flies are coming,the ants are already there. I can't just leave him to remain in the street.
Poor thing. He just lays there his legs apart and his hands nearly folded. What a sight--so sad a sight! At least his little squirrel face is at rest. It's not frozen with terror or fright. A tear fell from my eye as I scooped him up with the plastic bag. I thought,"how sad".
A nice place to be buried would be under my tree. Next to the iris that bloom every spring. I dug a hole-- not very deep, I hope some animal doesn't come along and try to peep. My dead little squirrel friend is now in his deep,deep sleep.
More tears fall over this little guy and seal in his resting for once and for all. I laid him to rest in a comfortable pose all his legs neatly folded and tail up around his nose. There he will lay forever until he is only fur and bones.
I will get comfort from this biblical prose:
There is a time for everything,and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
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