Pinkle Purr died on a cold winter's night
The ground too hard to bury her right
So Spotty and I sat by her fire
Till all that remained was the frost and the ash
We went inside and I glanced through the glass
As a small puff of smoke rose from embers last

It was shaped like a cat

My mother was taken and her service was held
Family gathered in sorrowed farewells
But after they gave her to a god she'd not known
They all turned so did I and left her alone
No one to watch as the fire did it's task
Only strangers to watch her spirit unleashed

There's a right of people to care for their dead
But we give up the right to a stranger instead