WHISKERS IN THE WIND
– The Advent of Snorro
One day I may tell you a story,
That might cause you to drool,
Of a small, wayward doggie,
Aptly named: Whiskey Stool.
He had loving owners,
A family of three,
But he craved high adventure–
Like he’d seen on TV.
He made up his mind,
Shuffling off on crusade,
Leaving a clear note behind,
So his owners would not be dismayed.
From someone’s drying underwear,
He procured a cape and mask for flair.
He embroidered in the blue satin cloth,
A big red letter “S”, as a warning, of course.
And so the legend had begun,
Of the masked desperado on the run.
Playing his tiny ukulele
And inconveniencing petty criminals daily.
Though he looked more suited to be a duster,
He was the master of disaster.
But his clumsy efforts at fighting crime,
Will be a tale for another time.
How can a kitty cat survive,
When outside’s minus 25?
When howling winds cut to the bone,
The mice’re asleep and birds have flown.
When boogers freeze inside your nose,
Like stalactites of emerald green,
Like prickly thorns on a strange rose,
Stuffing your nostrils like sardines.
So why do kitties brave the snow,
When it’s 25 degrees below?
They hope to find shelter, wake up someone to chew,
But mostly, they hope to move right in with you!
Looking for a lady, two years to five,
With whom to share my glorious life.
Must be endowed with fur like silk,
DISLIKE fish treats and buttered milk.
Must be painstakingly hygienic,
An optimist and not a cynic.
Not nag me when I come in late,
Or go wassailing with my mates.
You must love to hunt and bring back home,
The entire rodent, not just bare bones,
So I can take the lion’s share,
Then purr to show how much I care.
As for my part, I’m quite a catch,
I’ve got cream fur and eyes to match.
I will be frank and straight with you,
Tell you what you need to know and do.
I promise I will never shave,
Or become a sourpuss in my old days –
I will start off grumpy and be consistent,
That way you won’t even know the difference!
I bet you’re wishing right about now,
That you were a comely kitty gal!
If you are she, feel free to write –
Interviews will be held throughout March. At night.
CURIOSITY FILLED THE CAT
There once was a kitty,
Who needed to know,
What makes water wet
And what makes fluffy snow.
Most folks never pause to wonder why,
The grass is green or the moon shines.
They do not care why dogs don’t wash,
Or how a bear can eat so much.
How come by pesky Scruphy’s Law,
The buttered side of her toast must hit the floor?
She hid in the library for weeks,
Surviving on chocolate and chips.
She found the answers she’d searched for –
Got what she bargained for and more!
She learned that her favourite pâté,
Was the liver of something fed on hay…
Turns out that pretty butterflies,
As icky caterpillars started life!
And that the very bestest coffee brew,
Was really extracted from weasel poo!
Now in her dreams – no butterflies…
Coffee and pâté make her cry…
Alas! Too late she understood,
That some mysteries were there for her own good!
– A Parable of Inner Peace
Once upon a time, beneath Mount Frostbite,
An old wolf with his son climbed at night.
In his zeal the young pup had stumbled.
And stubbed his paw on the rocky ground.
His yelp of pure frustration followed—
The interjection “AooW!” rang all around.
The pup then paused alert and curious.
Who was it that had mimicked him?
He yelled “who are you?!” And the darkness,
Shouted “who are you?!!” right back at him.
Piqued by this open provocation,
He shouted “You coward!” in indignation.
Once more, to his acute surprise,
“You coward!!!” came back to him then thrice!
The pup shut his yap, confused and mad.
And questioningly looked to his wise Dad.
The old shaman smiled at his son –
So keen, so proud and so headstrong.
“Now listen carefully my boy
And learn to live your life with joy.”
He drew a deep breath and made the rocks vibrate,
As he bellowed to the Universe: “You’re great!!”
“You’re great, you’re great, you’re great, you’re great!!!”
Bounced back to him without delay.
He drew full breath, then cast a sign,
Hurling his howl into the deep,
And thundered “Thy spirit is divine!!”
His cry soaring from the mountain peak.
Before he’d even finished speaking,
The message was to him repeated.
To make sure his son understood,
He yelled “I love you!!” to the vast blue.
“I love you!!” rang out again and again,
There was nothing more left to explain.
The old shaman then closed his tired eyes
And absorbed the power of these lines.
The pup thought they’d come here to conjure magic,
Instead, he’d learned a truth, he had not yet imagined.
He now began to understand,
That his destiny lay in his hands!
Negative emotions fight the Universe,
And only amplify one’s curse.
It was not spells that made his father great,
But the way to The World he could relate.
“Now you know all there is to learn.
It is time to The Pack we now return.”
The pup was no more. As a pensive wolf he came down,
A worthy young heir to the Fiery Crown.
Shortly after, ‘the howl’ came and his father was gone,
To hunt on the Moon, where the great spirits roam,
But the young wolf never did forget,
His most valuable lesson yet.
Daily he reaffirmed its meaning
And meditated upon it kneeling.
He thanked his Dad for life’s great secret,
Bestowed upon a pup eager to receive it.
He learned to harness The Universe’s might,
to protect his clan and stand for what is right.