Where's Fred ?

Old Joe, Bob and myself were having a natter the other day on the site, when Mary came over looking a little sad.

“Can you bury a cat on your allotment ?” she asked, in all sincerity.

What a strange question I thought, did she go home that day and vent her anger on the poor thing ? (See last blog). Thankfully, she went on to give a somewhat teary eyed explanation.

Apparently her old cat was nearing his end and she was going to the vets to have him put down. But the cost of disposal was so expensive that she was thinking of other ways of getting rid of the body, and living in a flat with no garden limited her choices.

“Put it under yer rhubarb, it’ll grow like buggery”, was old Joe’s offering, ever the pragmatist but a little lacking in counselling skills.

“But I’m a bit worried a fox dig might him up again, I dread the thought”, she replied.

“Not if you bury it deep enough”, he said, “I remember when I buried Fred’s dog for him, in his back garden, he had a pacemaker”.

“What, the dog ?” she asked, without a hint of a smile.

“No…… Fred, and it wasn’t long I tell you before I buried him on top of t’dog”, he replied.

At this point I thought I’d entered a parallel universe, but things cleared a little as he went on to say that Fred’s widow, Ethel, had asked him to bury his ashes in an urn, near his beloved pet as he’d requested.

Eventually Ethel also died and as the family lived away, they wanted to take both parent’s ashes with them, and inter them nearer home. Of course they had Ethel’s, but where was Fred ? They knew he was in the garden somewhere, but there were no signs of a grave.

Luckily a neighbour heard of their plight and remembered old Joe digging in the garden that day, with poor Ethel by his side. Two and two were put together, and someone paid Joe a visit down at the allotments to explain their circumstance and ask the question.

“Oh he’s in t’rockery wi t’dog”, he told them to their relief, “But he’ll not be very happy being moved, he loved that animal you know”!