Now We are Sixteen and a half.
Her kidneys are shrivelling, her blood count's from hell,
The vet looks up sadly and says "She's not well,
Just take a few days and consult with your heart
But I think it is time to put down this sweet tart."
Well, the tartlet bounced back and she looked really fine
There was smoochage and purrage and blue eyes divine
There was sun love and bed smooch and joyous affection
But then she went down, I foresaw her direction:
"Is it time dearest?" I asked?
The mourners were there and the funeral casket
Resembled where she'd never go..her cat basket,
Friends gathered round and I mourned quite a lot
Tissues were gathered, it was all tears and snot.
"We will do it at home" I declared, "where she's happy"
Time and date were decided, I was sad and quite sappy,
The sad day a'dawned and I looked at my sweet,
And could not help but see she was quite on her feet.
There was black in my heart and my eyes were all red,
But madam declared "I would like to be fed!"
I obeyed (well, of course!) but I needed to know:
"Oh my, my sweet puss, are you ready to go?"
"No thank you" she replied, " not at all."