Recently my mother was out walking one day when she saw a cat, dead by the kerb, that had it seems been hit by a car. Distressed, she turned to the nearby house and spoke to the man living there who was digging his garden.

"Would you please bury the cat, to save the kids that are about to be let out of school"
He looked at the cat and looked at her.
"Piss off you stupid old woman" he said "I'm not putting that in my garden".

My mother is small and he was quite large, she thought twice then told him what she knew.
"I lived in this house during the blitz and could tell you a thing or two.
Under that sage lies the bones of a deer that we slaughtered and butchered right there. Beneath that beech tree is Maudy Kitchener's placenta, along with the stillborn child that she bore, and just here by the gate we buried a man, or rather the leg and the flesh that we found in that tree, when a buzz-bomb hit number 23."
She took his shovel, scooped up the dead cat, and handed it back to him.

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