The dead cat lay clumped up in the gutter
Its soul had departed this plain
And to make matters worse
It had started to rain...

The neighbor children were wandering the streets
Shoes on their heads and hats on their feet
Looking for critters, dead where they lay
To put in a trash bag and carry away...

But carrying it around, that isn't much fun
Eventually it will smell, if you'll pardon the pun
Smelly, dead things must be laid to rest
And for that front porches are always best...

Autopsies are for smucks, as everyone knows
A cursory glance is enough, if the cat is well posed
For identification, Dylan is up to bat
He knew the cat well before its untimely splat

A responsible neighbor who lives nearby
Was actually the first person there to spy
The newly deceased, crumbled up cat
Lying in the gutter, leaking out pieces of this and of that

There was no debate about what she should do
Her general common sense would see her through
She picked up the phone and gave the parents a ring
And had a heartfelt discussion about the dead thing

The parents now well and dutifully armed
Took proper precautions lest it was their cat that had been harmed
Though the Father was sure this was not the case
That their cat was inside when he had left the place
He said he was right, shouted we were wrong
He shouted the cat was in the house, where all good cats belong
His assurances delivered, we all settled down
Knowing that he was the kind of man to have in your corner when dead cats are around

The Waters children, however, would not be denied
As they had stumbled upon a plaything that could no longer hide
They could imagine tea parties with their new dead cat
His crushed little skull in a jaunty pink hat

But parental input is required when the dead come to call
Mom and Dad liked to know about new corpses no matter how small
Besides, scraping up road kill is a family affair
Many hands are required so the rotting flesh does not tear

Reluctant to leave their so special find
Rock, paper, scissors leaves Dylan behind
To guard with his life their new leaky friend
The rules of gutter salvage now his to defend

Mom comes running with garbage bags too
After all, she's a nurse and she knows what to do
Strange, a lot of her patients they end up quite dead
But from natural causes, or so it is said

Mom has a moment of singular clarity
And instructs her brood on an act of strange charity
Believing that ownership of the corpse must be addressed
In order to determine its place of final rest

She makes an assessment and on that she acts
Dylan's initial identification she now takes as fact
She wraps up the corpse in clean Hefty sack
And says, 'this is Sammie's, we must take him back.'

This queer funeral procession then crosses the street
But we're not at home, so there's no one to meet
They decide at that moment to leave it behind
A little dead present for someone to find
On the front porch, the lifeless feline awaits
For the family to gather, not knowing our fate
This porch is old on which many people have sat
But in its long history, this is its first dead cat

Responsible neighbor comes to the rescue once more
And spies the Hefty bag on the rainy porch floor
Just in time she sends out a call
Thus letting Dad plan for his daughters to stall

With the girls in the house, he manfully shrugs
And waves away flies and various bugs
He opens the bag and examines the body
Then calls back his wife to tell her she's dotty

The cat in the bag, well it isn't our cat
This thing is scrawny and ours is quite fat
And of course, there is a sure way to tell
Our cat is still breathing, healthy and well

How do you thank someone for such a gross gift
Normal people, I think, would be rather miffed
But we thought it was funny and had a good laugh
About the decaying carcass they left in our path

Still it is a situation that must be addressed
To put the whole matter, like the dead cat, to rest
So reluctantly, Mom picks up the phone
And silently prays that the mutants aren't home

When speaking to Crazy, you need to be wary
Question their methods and things tend to get hairy
Mom trends softly with a great deal of tact
And speaks as through leaving dead animals as presents is a courteous act

Nothing is resolved, no nothing, it's true
The Mutant Mom still thinks it was a good thing to do
To pick up that dirty old crumpled up cat
For that she expects a pat on her back

She even demands that we act the same way
If her missing cat should come here to play
She would like to make sure we give her cat back
Alive or dead in a big Hefty sack

We think of things that might resemble their cat
Lo Mein, some noodles, road kill and pork fat
Into a bag we place our new find
And on their front porch we leave it behind