Book of Remembrance for Cats

Pet was never mourned as you

Purrer of the spotless hue

Plumy tail, and wistful gaze

While you humoured our queer ways,

Or outshrilled your morning call

Up the stairs and through the hall,

Foot suspended in its fall,

While, expectant, you would stand

Arched, to meet the stroking hand;

Till your way you chose to wend

Yonder, to your tragic end.

From 'Last words to a dumb friend' by Thomas Hardy