'Is that a dead thing in my water butt?'

They examined it carefully.
Bloated like a gofer,
Sporting a fetching dayglow purple and white suit.
The drowned squirrel rocked
'High' in it's water butt coffin.
He caught the slippery fiend in his net
And slung the unwilling catch
under the long limbed bush;
already excavated.
Holding their noses to block the putrid scent,
they completed the procedure by
Closing the grave with dampened compost
Leaving the Rhododendron to say rites,
make note of the squirell's passing.

The fox of course exhumed it the next night.