If I can't dance I don't want to be in your revolution

I'd love to stay and chat - but I am having an old friend for dinner

It is all fun and games until you have to rid of the body!

Because how exactly do you get rid of a dead rodent?

Too big to flush

A garbage bin is too callous

I don’t own a shovel and a using a spoon would just take too long…

I called around seeing if anyone was willing to help and suddenly I didn’t have friends anymore…

Except one.

And he came over to remove it from the cage.

And hugged my when I cried.

But then he cried too…

Because, really it was sad

Shut up - it WAS sad

And I am left holding this almost weightless box

With a dead rodent inside

And nowhere to put it

So I get into my car

And drive to a coworker’s house

At 8:00 pm on a Friday night

Hoping I didn’t miss her

Because she was leaving for a weekend with her parents

And knock on the door

And tell her, with tears in my eyes

“This is my dead Guinea Pig - His name was Mr. Papua New Guinea. He needs to be buried – can you take it to your farm?”

And she starts to laugh …

So I kind of do too

Because really it’s quite silly

Crying over a rodent

But she finds it really funny

Like knee slapping funny

And she is laughing so hard

THAT SHE DROPS THE BOX

And Mr. Papua New Guinea

Slides across the floor

And under a chair…

So I did what any level-headed person would do it that situation

I screamed really loud, covered my eyes and hopped up and down

on one foot

But luckily I came to my senses quick enough to grab the dog

Before he used Papua as a squeaky toy

And now Papua is buried (or so my coworker tells me)

Under a tree

RIP

posted by Andrea @ 3:45 PM