This entry is not nearly as humourous as the last one -- of course, burying things is not supposed to be humourous, and it isn't, just the things round while you do it are.
Of course, grandmothers are buzzkills to twisted senses of humour.
So, I had to bury the cat that I have for the last three or four years claimed was posessed. She and I often rubbed each other the wrong way, but I mean, the cat screamed at me. It could say the word "milk". There's something...odd, there.