A dirge.

Dear Roly (for that is what my children named you),
I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. You see, my girls had been fighting all morning. The weeds were calling to me. Within a minute of venturing outside, you placed yourself in the exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. The girls were entranced.
I'm sure you enjoyed their company for a moment. At least before the poking and prodding began. Then followed the attempt to feed you grass and water and a quick transfer to the sandbox. They had only the best of intentions, they truly thought it to be a suitable habitat for one such as you. And when they dug you a pit and flooded it with water, they only hoped that you would drink to your heart's content. Instead, you met an untimely end.
Thank you for putting up with my children. They had so much fun taking care of you in that final hour of your life. You gave me just enough time to weed and fertilize my entire backyard. I hope you can find joy in knowing that you were the highlight of my kids' day - that you provided a brief respite from the name-calling and hair-pulling that had occupied the rest of the morning. I'm just sorry it had to end this way.

Your humble and grateful servant,
Susie