Live your life in fur and whiskersnFourteen years on four small pawsnAte the heads and left the bodiesnOf the victims of your clawsnnI poked you and you scratched menEach claw like a tiny knife,nAnd through it all I shared with younSome of the best times in my lifennLast year dead, year before alivenThis year, still dead. Sad.nnYour indifference to that puppynSelling bog roll on the tellynMade me love you so I didn't carenThat your breath was smellynnYour little kidneys couldn'tnHandle it no more,nNot unlike Pope John Paul IInBe he had fewer pawsnYou were not that religiousnAlso unlike Pope John PaulnAnd he lived in the VaticannBut you had never been therenAt all, oh at allnnThis year dead, year before alivenThis year, still dead. Sad.