I Hate Peter

We walked outside and discovered a dead critter lying in the yard.  Upon investigation by Ross, we discovered A) its a male, B) it's not a coon, C) Molly loves it, D) it's teeth are ginormous, and E) the parasites swarming out of its mouth brought up conversations of burial verses crematorial options. Nonetheless, Molly felt he needed a name.  Peter, was the obvious choice in this situation.

We're still determining exactly what he is, my my hunch is he's a woodchuck.  

Therefore, well offer a burial servive for Peter later this evening if anyone wishes to offer up any prayers.  

I can't help by asking the question, how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

PETER UPDATE:

This post was originally written 2 days ago.

The burial service was not executed.  My error.

Tuesday I had a huge catering event and by the time Wednesday rolled around, the stench was more than I could handle.  A shovel hauled a rank, blubbery, maggot covered Peter to the fire.  Cremation was the only option at this point.

By the way, this was my very first cremation.

I assumed newspaper, wood and cardboard would get hot enough to dispose of this 'Peter'.

Nope. 

Goose sat by the fire making eerie 'throat sounds' as I lit the fire, and as soon as I was out of site, drug Peter back out.

Therefore, I was forced to march back out there, scold Goose and re-cremate Peter.  However, it wasn't as easy as it sounded.  Apparently, Goose managed to break the green-rotting innards of this creature as he pulled him from the fire, leaving a path of horrid poop across the back yard.  Again... it's been HOT.  The flies were on this stuff like... well, you can imagine.

Mike returned home from work and explained it's impossible to burn a dead animal without lighter fluid due to the moisture content, as though this were common knowledge.

Oh, and also it's not a woodchuck.

It's a muskrat. 

Silly me.

Is it time for school to start yet?