The passing of a Friend

He was wrapped in a towel that covered his head.
He lay very still, not a blink, not a nod.
No cat conversation, no warm loving purr,
Just silence spoken louder, a painful reminder
The best, as it were.
He no londer stands with his paws on my knee
to ask if a jump up could be here for me.
No more hair baths, nor staring at near empty bowls
Nor sharing of seats sprawled out the full length
For he was a long animal, when sleeping beside
Me as I watched TV.
Now his spirit divided lives on somewhere else,
And his skin, as Ben calls it, is wrapped in a box
That is buried by Bob and Chuck in the back yard,
He's probably still talking as loudly as ever,
But I cannot hear him, and that is the problem.
So, ghostly catcalls like Tink in the dawn
Will have to do me until I move on.
That's life as we know it, and I guess that's death, too.
I hope that this writing will pull us all through.
I love you, Sammy, wherever you are.
Your Human