The Squirrel Funeral

We pulled into the driveway this afternoon and my daughter wanted to go over to our neighbor's fence and visit with their dog. My son, of course, followed her. I went in to put our stuff in the house. That is when I heard my daughter yelling for me: "MAMA!!!" I could tell there was a certain urgency to her voice. So, I ran outside. We met up in the yard. She had a very upset look on her face. "Mom, I just, the poor little thing, I don't know what to do..." She wasn't making any sense. I thought something was wrong with the dog. So, I followed her over there. She was pointing at the ground a couple feet in front of their fence. The dog was barking like crazy! I looked down and saw a big, gray, deceased squirrel. That is when the real commotion ensued. My daughter wanted to pick it up for inspection and petting. I told her no, we don't know what it died from. It might be carrying some dreaded disease. So, daughter, son and I got the shovel and went out in the back yard. I dug a hole. We all went back out front with a t-shirt/rag from the garage. I picked up the squirrel and wrapped it in the rag. My daughter was having a fit to pet it. "Please Mama, PLEASE!!!" Finally, when we made it to the grave site, I did let her pet it on it's back a little. (I made her promise she would not touch anything or anybody afterwards until she had washed her hands.) That little pet seemed to satisfy her. Afterwards, I wrapped him up in the rag. We put a pine cone in for him and then buried him. R.I.P. little guy.