RIP George Craven, exemplary black cat.

Sad to relate, my cat George had to be put to sleep last night. He was an awesome feline and will be greatly missed. Sonnet 26 was written in his honour three or four years ago, and is reproduced here in his memory.

Sonnet 26

What art thou, Puss? Shining nonentity,

thou space where photons go like hope to die.

Fix not on me those heartless compound eyes,

nor compass me with swart plasticity.

‘More kibbles!’ ever was thy vacant plea,

and susurration of the beast at rest.

Betimes thou murther’d rodents, raided nests,

perchéd inscrutably in random trees.

Thy rapine’s circuit latterly contracts,

thy depredation’s lately not as bold;

wherefore, my surmise Puss: thou dost grow old

and ought most leisurely repent thy acts;

which I, for all thy roguery, dispense

despite thy manifest indifference.