The Ballad of Whisper the Poisoned Gray Cat

Whisper was a mighty tom
Who lived in our neighborhood
Mighty gray of dewy main
His teeth and claws were long
His eyes flashed green
And his broken tail pointed
Sixty degrees to the moon.

By day he slept in our house
But rarely did he take a meal
He captured his prey by night
He went on the prowl by night alone
He ruled our neighborhood

He would present us his fair in the morning
Whether carcass of rabbit or bird
He dragged his prize through the kitchen
And presented it to our mother

We knew it was the hateful bird woman
Who poisoned our Whisper to death
The fearful bird woman who lived next door
She resembled the pets she adored

Her nose was fashioned a pointy beak
Her jaw jutted forward grotesquely
So her mouth could not close completely
Her knees bent backwards like a flamingo’s
Her bulbous ass teetered ridiculously
On the top of her spindly legs
Her huge butt propped precariously
On the top of her skinny legs

The cat was chivalrous and proud
His green eyes shined through the night
His gnarly gray main was damp with the dew
His large fuzzy testicles switched as he paced
He ruled our neighborhood

The bird woman was mean and fearful
She was cowardly and obtuse
She poisoned the heads of some cod fish
And left them out for our cat
She poisoned the heads of some cod fish
Our brave cat is dead of the cod fish

T’was a drizzly evening when Whisper returned
Early from his nightly sport
From the moment he entered
We knew what had happened
He stumbled across the floor
A sick gleam thrust from his eyes
He meowed a mournful song

Though mortally ill he stood proud and tall
And issued these final words:
“I have been poisoned by the ugly bird woman
The ugly bird woman has killed me.
I must not die an ignoble death
But must find a place proper to die”

With these words he bowed
And lowered his eyes
Then he sauntered towards the door
He journeyed to find a proper place
And a noble death to die

Never more did Whisper return
Nor again have we heard his meowing
We never have seen his dewy gray main
Nor his fuzzy balls switching
Nor his broken tail pointing
Sixty degrees to the moon