Poetry: Her Mother's Call

CW: The natural passing of a beloved pet.

I originally wrote this in February, 2005, when we knew our cat Hurricane Iniki was near her end. It lived in my LiveJournal account, which is still alive but not really particularly active, and thus not a great repository for things I want to share with people.

Today, we said goodbye to another cat, Bruno von den Schwartzenkatzen, so I finally pulled this out of LJ to post here.

"Her Mother's Call"
by Michael Scott Shappe
24 February 2005

A stripey cat curls up to nap
And dreams she hears her mother call.
She drifts away from worldly pain
And finds herself in hallowed halls

Where Bastet sits erect and proud
And calls out for her wayward stray:
'Tell me, my kit, no shame nor fear,
What boon from me you'd have this day.'

'Well loved was I in life just left,
Well scritched and brushed and well I dined,
But never did I truly hunt,
For I did live my life confined.'

'Then that's the boon that you shall have,
My well beloved and favoured child.
Come run with me and hunt this night,
And to your life be reconciled.'

Then out they went into a wood
The likes the cat had never seen,
For rarely does an indoor cat
Encounter forests lush and green.

And ev'ry squirrel she'd ever seen,
And ev'ry mouse and ev'ry bird,
Was hers that day -- her rightful prey!
While Bastet watched and loudly purred.

And when the stripey cat was done,
Her thwarted hunts at last fulfilled,
A sunbeam came -- for why be Bast
If sunbeams don't obey your will?

'Curl up with me, my striped kit,
With whiskers bold, claws sharp and true,
And dream away your former life,
And when you wake begin anew.'

Then stripey cat curled up with Bast,
Who purred and lulled her past recall,
And when she woke, emerged and mewed,
In answer to her mother's call.