Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,  
Because their words had forked no lightning they  
Do not go gentle into that good night.
 
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright  
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,  
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,  
Do not go gentle into that good night.
 
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

“Mrs. French’s cat is missing. The signs are posted all over town. ‘Have you seen Honey?’ We’ve all seen the posters, but nobody has seen Honey the cat. Nobody. Until last Thursday morning, when Miss Colette Piscine swerved her car to miss Honey the cat as she drove across a bridge. Well this bridge, now slightly damaged, is a bit of a local treasure and even has its own fancy name; Pont de Flaque. Now Colette, that sounds like Culotte. That’s Panty in French. And Piscine means Pool. Panty pool. Flaque also means pool in French, so Colette Piscine – in French, Panty Pool – drives over the Pont de Flaque – the Pont de Pool, if you will – to avoid hitting Mrs. French’s cat that has been missing in Pontypool. Pontypool. Pontypool. Panty pool. Pont de Flaque. What does it mean?”

“And remember, speak not of the dog park, do not even traverse towards the dog park and do not even think about the dog park.”

Cute <3