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Washington, United States
loves: you win if you guessed "pets" and "museums". Also books, art history, travel, British punk, Korean kimchi, bindis, martinis, and other things TBD. I will always make it very clear if a post is sponsored in any way. Drop me a line at thepetmuseum AT gmail.com !

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

epitaph for a garden toad

His name was "Gobemouches," and he was a common garden toad.  Yet even a toad may be thought of fondly, and missed when it hops off to the beyond.  Such was the case with Isabel VallĂ© in her slender volume of verse epitaphs for her animal friends, in which we find this brief lament:

Oh, kind Gobemouches
Why did you die?
We miss you so,
The flowers and I!

At least she liked Gobemouches.  I'm not sure she was so fond of kitty Pasht:

A Cat 

Feathered folk, give thanks! Rejoice! 
To your throats let songs upgush! 
Stilled is now her hated voice, 
Rots our foe beneath this bush!

Even though Vallé was not the most skillful of poets, she did have this strikingly heartfelt gift to offer the memory of her dog Lupetta:

A Little Florentine Dog 

Within my heart I kept her locked 
A treasure none might see; 
But grinning Death stood by and mocked, 
He held a master key! 

Soon open wide he flung the door 
And took my golden one 
And stole the color from the shore 
And sea, and sky, and sun!

-- from Valle, I. (1916). Epitaphs of some dear dumb beasts. Boston [Mass.]: The Gorham Press.

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