A Concatenation of Catchwords

 

 

My daughter’s cat has captivated her family.

Even I – being more of a dog person (Timmy our Jack Russell hates cats) – found myself admiring his grace and beauty, and all those skills a cat deploys and enjoys. 

Thinking about their cat, I realised how many words contain 'cat'; so it was that this poem took shape.

Predictably, I then thought I should write a dog poem.

I didn’t actually get very far, having identified only a few dog words: after dogma/dogmatic, dogged, lying doggo and Venetian doges I began to run out. So the dog poem had to wait, its tongue hanging out.

But having just gone to my (big) dictionary and found a long list of dog words and phrases, ranging from a certain Shakespearian Dogberry through dog collars, dog days and dog-eared to a dog’s dinner, the Dogstar and dogwatch, I now feel like telling Timmy something can be found to be thrown, and he can wag his tail – even chase a cat.  

A Concatenation of Catchwords 

Where did you come from, my little cat –

Cathay, Catania or perhaps Kathmandu?

By catamaran, or by cat-size mat

which fluttered your way from a Roman catacomb?

 

Wrapped in your cat’s cradle, caterpillar warm

you catwalk in your catnap, purring all the while

as you dream cathartically – ancient deiform –

of catalysts, catafalques and Cheshire cats who smile,

 

of cathedrals and catheters, even cathode rays –

through the cat-flap in the darkness, past Catch 22.

No cause for caterwaul.  The catechism says

in the catastrophic catalogue the survivor will be you.

 

There’s not a cat-in-hell’s chance you’ll suffer from a cold,

catch catarrh or be sent to Catterick.  Never need a CAT scan,

no cataract or catatonia, even when you’re old –

I’d rather be a nine-lived cat than a single one-life man.

 

A cat’s to be found in its own special category

different from a human who is clumsy and half-blind.

I may be rational, but eschatologically

a cat is superior, leaving me far behind.

Thank you for the photos Ben!