An animal I’ll help you find They won’t sneak up from behind In the field or in the pen I’ll sing for all to hear

My cat was just sick on the carpet. I don't think he's. . .

I hold the leaves, but have no hand, I'm part of a tree, across the land, And by the bank, I'm often found, a financial strand.

Questionable pronunciation aside, I'm an object where love goes to die. Try to prolong the inevitable you may, but eventually my contents will wither away...

I have trees but sell no wood, I have grass but grow no farm, people spread their blankets on me eat their lunch and come to calm, kids run wild and dogs run free yet no one owns a single tree and in a city full of rush I am the one green breathing hush. What am I