Valediction to a cat

Alfie the cat lies content, sleeping on her side,

Black against the blanket in a cardboard box,

Comfortable and still, unconcerned by my advance,

Undisturbed by clatter of the plate and other noise.

She doesn't raise her head or look surprised,

Or even stir to scratch or lick,

No interest in her food or opening fridge,

She remains where I gently placed her hours ago

And nothing now disrupts her poise,

This is a lifeless corpse - the cat was that!

She lies in sweet repose, the spirit flown,

The character is fled, I with a body left alone,

I look outside and two dull thuds to scare the birds

Announce the doom, as flapping crow croaks passing by.

These are her sombre salutes, as if they know

She rested here in state, never again to wake.

I make a mourning cup of tea to celebrate

The little furry life recumbant there,

Reluctant to disturb her sleep, I creep about the room,

Careful not to make a sudden noise;

Even for a cat, the instinct strong to show respect.

Yesterday poor thing, she refused to eat or drink,

I knew it was an omen of the end,

I wrote a note to female friend

To help me take her to the vet,

To ease her journey to the never-never land.

Unusually she had settled in a place

On Knole sofa amidst the Oak and refused to budge.

I put her out, then brought her in,

From crouching by the door,

Grown very thin, she wore a sheen of elegance

I hadn't seen before. Perhaps a sort of giving up or giving in?

As I sat in front my computer screen,

Connected to a nether world of facts and dreams,

She sprang upon my lap, as was her wont,

One last defiant jaunt to feel my touch

And bid a last goodbye - she must have known.

I smoothed her back and twirled her ears,

Then placed her next to me - she awkwardly jumped down

And straightaway crept under the winged chair

I'd bought with mother years before,

From whence now came an unearthly sound,

Part howl, part growl, part wail, part yowl,

Walt Whitman's barbaric yawp, cut though my heart,

One last quite desperate feline cry.

Anxious, afraid, I moved the chair,

Revealing her still lying there, I thought expired.

But when I gently lifted her, again the awful groan!

I layed her down in front the fire quite comatosed,

I, a powerless observer of nature's course.

I only could whisper sweet nothings in her ear,

Speaking softly fond farewells, my furry friend,

And thank her for her company these passing years.

Crouching low, trying to detect a vital sign, I touched her side,

Two coughs scared and made me jump, they marked the end.

The water flowed, she seemed to bury her head face flat down.

Was she trying to haste her end?

She did not want to see me cry, nor I.

She passed away unseen, unknown,

Apart from me and Spirit in the sky.

I said goodbye to her and all the years we'd shared,

Appearance at the window cill and steady look from piercing eye.

I left her there and went to bed, her body resting down below.

I met her in the morning, when I went downstairs.

She still was there, strangely quite unmoved,

When suddenly from somewhere unbeknown,

Welled up a tear, emotion and a prehistoric groan,

Thinking how I should have to place her, 

In cold hard ground to decompose alone.

What mystery is here as life elopes and leaves the form,

Whatever shape it's been, whatever name it's given, 

An indefinable presence come and gone,

Now just on earth a stiff hard board,

But maybe somewhere else is promised Pussy Heaven?