Chinese

We got a kitten, Siamese
my little sister could only grok Chinese
hence his name.
 

As a kitten I saw him stalk
a kookaburra,
twice his body weight.
This predator bird could have killed him,
with a peck
or the more traditional method,
carry him to a height and drop him.
but instead played.
Each time he quivered his little bottom
and pounced,
kooka elegantly lifted,
just enough,
to let the kit fly
through empty space,
confused
and come back for more.
It went on for an hour.
I found my animal souls.
 

He grew unspeyed
to be a warrior
in the tradition of his ancestors.
 

He killed at will,
our neighbours mourned and resented,
their missing lovelies,
but who can prove a cat?
 

He knew one word of English,
snake
whenever he heard the word
he would go,
into the bush
and come back with his prize.
Most grateful cats bring mice and lizards.
He was not grateful,
he knew his worth.
He brought back
tiger snakes,
black snakes,
most deadly of all brown ones.
As trophies.
 

sure he got bitten,
would sleep for three days and go out hunting.
sure he got hurt,
when possum bites got infected
he came back from the vet
shaved from head to haunch
a scar crossed fighter,
Frankenstein cat!
 

I loved him for his entire lack of sycophancy
He want attention?
He climb up you claw by claw.
He don’t?
Don’t even try.
 

Hear this!
He sat be-sunning himself in the driveway.
Alsation cat-killer came pounding up roaring.
Chinese sat.
To the last possible moment,
and calmly took its nose off
with one swipe.
alsation fleeing screetching.
Chinese sunning.
 

He liked pot.
Would jump onto my desk when I blazed up
and sit in front,
inhaling
and if i played The Doors or Bowie
he would lean against the speaker,
rocking.
 

Chinese got ill.
Couldn’t eat,
vomitted a lot,
finally vet said,
leukemia.
 

I held him in my arms as the fatal yellow shot went in.
I felt him leave.
I have never had a better human friend.