This a sequel to my poem ‘Meow, Meow'.
Alone he came and said
‘meow' to my daughter,
'Brownie' we named him
In deference to the colour of his hide.
Over the months
He grew up into a big cat
His instincts natural
Overtook his scare.
He graduated from hunting
Flies, insects and flying termites
To Cockroaches and lizards
Again to squirrels and pigeons
Albeit that the hunts
were rare and far removed.
The first time he hunted down a pigeon,
He magestically brought it directly
To my daughter and presented it
To her with a proud growl.
It was she who fed him regularly
And he had grown so fond of her
That, his first catch, as a matter of gratitude
He wished to share with her.
That she had not started
Dining of raw pigeons
Poor Brownie, brown,
Had not occurred to him.
" Nate Tulay rated a poem titled A Share Of My Catch 5- start ratings". Thank You Nate Tulay for rating this poem Five Star.
Cats carry their prey to a secure corner away from the greedy eyes of other predators and birds like raven. Our Brownie found my daughter's room as the most secure place. It is just my interpretation that he intended to share his catch with her
Poet Menon, you may find this very very very hard to believe. At the age of 14 months, I was dying. My parents took me to doctor after doctor. They couldn't save me. They force fed me pigeon soup which saved my life! True story!
Oh! That is wonderful. Really awesome. Though, wherever we lived (and live now) we have pigeons galore, the medicinal value of their flesh has never occurred to me. Thank You, Richard for sharing this information.
Thank you Dilipji for adding this poem to your favourites
A lovely and interesting poem. The bond we create with our pets add.colors to our life
Your words show that the did communicate with effectively. Thank you reading the poem and marking your appreciation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank You, Poet Nat Tulay for rating this poem Five Star.