It's Time by Carol Naylor.

Jessie 1995-2014.

"It's time," he said as I withdrew into my battered shell.
Is there ever a right time to go? To leave this earth?
To shuffle off this mortal coil?
Or to go gently into that good night?
To drift from this world into oblivion, to die and go we know not where?
Without a soul to live on. No spirit left. Nothingness.
No trace of your existence even. Just fading memories. How sad.
 
 
When everyone deserted me, you were there, always there,
My faithful friend, constant, offering me unconditional love,
Well-needed companionship. A well-travelled cat, British through and through,
Full of the zest of life until you ended your days here in Spain.
Welcoming that eternal slumber to end your pain for ever.
 
 
I was there right to the bitter end, holding you, stroking you, already grieving
As you peacefully slipped away. "It's time," he said. Goonight Jessie. God bless.
 
Copyright 2014. Permission must be obtained from the author before any reproduction or copying of this poem.


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