It's a shovel he gave us to celebrate Maggie Rose's birth. The joke was she's so cute I'd need to warn every teenage boy in the region "I have a gun and a shovel." But now I had to dig a real, if small, grave. Our cat Pouncequick died yesterday. Her brother Pixel had died in December. His grave has flowers on it. They've already passed their first bloom and are looking a little droopy. Pouncequick's grave went on the south side of his. By the time I got home and had a bite to eat the rain had stopped, so I got to do the work without excessive Young Frankenstein references. Her personality didn't really suit flowers, so the plan for her grave is to put knotwork garden tile on it. I gave her a few words as I laid her down. She was always crotchety, hopefully she'll be happier in the next place. Or at least I hope she'll find plenty of things to complain about if that's what she wants.
I guess this makes the shovel even better for the original purpose--I can say it's already dug two graves.