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 Vallé 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:

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:

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.