The artist's cat is dead, alas.
Who will wake me from my nightmares now?
Who will bat my fairy lights and call me down to breakfast?
Who will join me on the sofa?
Who will chase the bubbles I blow?
Who will be my gentle, neutral topic of conversation at work?
Who will doze in the garden?
Who will spread havoc until she is forgotten?
Background and foreground, front and centre, in the main action or just for atomsphere, she was a cat always passing in and out of comics. See you in the funny papers, Harlequin Day.
