Father O'Malley rose from his bed.
It was a fine spring day in his new parish in Ottawa.
He walked to the window of his bed-room to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside.
He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn.
He promptly called the Prime Minister.
The conversation went like this:
"Good morning. This is Paul Martin. How might I help you?"
"And the best of the day te yerself. This is Father O'Malley at St. Brigid's.
There's a jackass lying dead in me front lawn.
Would ye be so kind as to send a couple o' yer lads to take care of the matter?"
The Prime Minister, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk,
"Well now father, it was always my impression that you people took care of last rites!"
There was dead silence on the line for a long moment. Father O'Malley then replied:
"Aye, that's certainly true, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin."