Submissions are invited of poetry to commemorate the life and mourn the death of DS2's guinea pig

[Threadworm]

Died yesterday after a mercifully short illness.

In Memoriam

So, farewell then
Beetle.
That was not your real name.

Internet paranoia has made me choose
An alias.
And Keith's mum says that Beetle is
A very good name
For a guinea pig.

Especially one that was black and fat.
That was probably what killed you.
Being so fat
I mean.

E. J. Thread, aged 17 and a half.

[ruty]

Anyone for a verse of Kum-by-yah? [you'e falling out of that onebat]

[Threadworm]

Once gathered, the collected squeaks of Beetle appear like his bodily disorder ... a little constipated.

Here's what I have so far:

Lettuce. I want lettuce. And hay
Carrot would be alright too. Now.

Lettuce. I want lettuce. And hay
Carrot would be alright too. Now.

Lettuce. I want lettuce. And hay
Carrot would be alright too. Now.

Lettuce. I want lettuce. And hay
Carrot would be alright too. Now.

It is a bit like the manuscript in The Shining.

[mollyroger]

and lego storage. Never underestimate the value of shoeboxes for lego storgae.

I used to collect matchboxes for the sole purpose of goldfish coffins. We are not Good With Goldfish in this house

[Stayingsunnygirl]

On the sunny shores of mumsnet
Dwells the lovely maiden, Threadworm.
Fair she is, but sad our Threadworm
Mourning yet the loss of Beetle.
Black of coat and round of tummy
Sweet of character, and sunny
Living yet in all our mem'ries
Sing we now the praise of Beetle.
Now his cage is sad and dusty,
Still his wheel, his dish is empty
No more little footsteps scratchy
No more nose, so black and whiffly.
Let the warriors kneel in sorrow,
Let the maidens sadly follow
As we lay to rest brave Beetle
As in sadness we shall wallow.
Yet his deeds will live among us
We will sing his deeds with gladness
We will tell of how he conquered
Far off lands, where none had ventured.
How he climbed the stairs unaided
How he conquered chair and wardrobe
Where he left his little pellets
To remind us, here was Beetle.
Beetle we will mourn you deeply
To the heights of sorrow mourn you
Yet we may replace you, some day
Beetle Two will be acquir-ed.
He will have big paws to follow
Great your heart and long your shadow
So we say, farewell to Beetle
Sleep your well-earned sleep, Oh fair one.

Apologies to Longfellow.

[ruty]

[They are, a touch, psychotic, you know threadie]

[Threadworm]

Splendid, sunnygirl.

[Boco]

When I was small we had a red setter. One day he escaped and ran into the village where the fete was taking place. The pet competition had just been judged, and in front of the crowd, and it's owner, Oliver swallowed the prize winning guinea pig in one gulp. It took months before someone explained to my parents why people glared at them in the street and shielded their children.

[talulasmumII]

we've had a goldfish for 6 years...i talk to him alot, probably what's keeping him going.

[Threadworm]

A year or so ago an MP's jack russell ate a ferret at a country show. Or did I dream that?

[GivePeasAChance]

An ode to Beetle:

To honour your life, I have been thinking
About all the good things you did
It's hard because there is not much to remember
All you did was shit, piss and linger

[talulasmumII]

lol TW, arn't ferrets bigger than jack russells?

[mollyroger]

oh Boco, sorry but ROFL!
That's so black, you couldn't make it up!

[onebatmother]

oh my GOD Boco.

[AmIOdetteOrOdileOrABagpipe]

The once was a pet named Beetle
He looked like a rat a leetle,
Though much cuter I found
He?s now underground
Poor stone dead little Beetle.

[onebatmother]

Though at least his little whorly life ended on a high point. It would have been sad had he grown old and fat and addicted and died on the loo.

[Threadworm]

(...which is pretty much what happened to Beetle)

[onebatmother]

Yes.

[vacaloca]

Oh dear lord. Stop it now. I have a tax return to fill and I can't see the screen through the tears.

[ruty]

To be eaten by a setter
Is surely nobler and better
Than, after eating too much grass,
Getting all impacted up the arse.

[ruty]

[sorry Beetle]

[cremolafoam]

Rabbie Burns( cas we arecose to Burn's Night)
Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an chase thee,
Wi murdering pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken Nature's social union,
An justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion.
An fellow mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve:
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma request;
I'll get a blessin wi the lave,
An never miss't!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An naething, now, to big a new ane,
O foggage green!
An bleak December's win's ensuin.
Baith snell an keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an waste,
An weary winter comin fast.
An cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro thy cell.

That wee bit heap o leaves an stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble.
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An cranreuch cauld!

But piggie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o guinea pigs an men
Gang aft agley,
An lea'e us nought but grief an pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An forward, tho I canna see,
I guess an fear!

[Threadworm]

I've just read the thread through properly now. There are lots of brilliant poems that I missed before, in the thread's rapid expansion.

On behalf of Beetle, thank you from my heart. I am deeply touched.

You will all get free advance copies of Beetle: A Life in Verse.

And now I enter deepest mourning. In Peru it is traditional not to post on internet forums for two weeks after the death of a guinea pig.

Farewell.

[Habbibu]

As requested:

THE guinea-pig with drops of his heart's blood
Had nourished the red rose, then came a wind,
And catching at the boughs in envious mood,
A hundred thorns about his heart entwined.
Like to the dog crunching bones, good
Seemed the world to me who could not stay
The wind of Death that swept my hopes away.

Light of mine eyes and cheek-pouch of my heart,
And mine at least in short-term memory!
Ah, when he found it easy to depart,
He left the harder exercise wheel to me!
Oh Great Run Maker, though the exercise ball start,
For God's sake help me lift my fallen sun,
And Pity be my comrade of the run!

My fur is seamed with dust, mine eyes are wet.
Of dust and tears the stripy firmament
Kneadeth the bars for joy's abode; and yet . . .
Alas, and weeping yet I make lament!
Because the moon her jealous glances set
Upon the bow-bent fur-whorls of my moon,
He sought a lodging in the grave-too soon!

I had not castled, and the time is gone.
What shall I play? Upon the sawdusted floor
Of Night and Day, Death won the game-forlorn
And careless now, Chris can lose no more.

[Threadworm]

Oh that is lovely Habbibu. Thank you. Handsome Chris will be so pleased.

Time well wasted.

[Northernlurker]

Bump - mumsnet has gone a bit mad and it's time to remember some good stuff