Lucy Vickery

Pet sounds | 14 August 2014

issue 16 August 2014

In Competition No. 2860 you were invited to submit a short ode on the death of a pet in unusual circumstances.

I was prompted to set this challenge by Thomas Gray’s charming and witty cautionary tale ‘Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes’, which he wrote in 1747 in memory of Horace Walpole’s beloved tabby Selima, whose desire leads her to a watery demise. ‘She stretched in vain to reach the prize./ What female heart can gold despise?/ What cat’s averse to fish?’

D.A. Prince’s winning composition below has strong echoes of Gray and there was plenty of wit and charm on display elsewhere in the entry. Commendations to Poppy McLean, John-Paul Marney, Martin Parker and Anita Howard. The odes printed below earn their authors £25 each. The bonus fiver is Chris O’Carroll’s.

The budgie on my mantelpiece,
That gem of taxidermic art,
Lived blithe until his sad decease.
He pecks yet at my grieving heart.
 
I kept him in an unlocked cage,
Intending that he might live free.
Well-meaning fool, I set the stage
For avian catastrophe.
 
Badminton was my game the day
He found a window open wide.
Eager to join with me at play,
He spread his wings and soared outside.
 
The brisk, firm sound a racquet makes —
How bitterly that thwock! must mock
The heartsore slayer who mistakes
A birdie for a shuttlecock.
Chris O’Carroll
 
O ai, my ai, for you I cry —
My friend, fair three-toed sloth;
I lost your sister, now you’re gone
As well; I loved you both.
Shy Guy, fond ai, you climbed too high
Into that undergrowth,
Your hideaway, the trumpet-tree;
To recall your fall, I’m loth.
One fateful slip, cruel, careless trip
That tumbled you to earth —
Quite lost your grip — Thud! – smashed each
hip:
How little is life worth.
Bye-bye, dear ai: I dabbed each eye,
Interred you in the ground
Then blessed your soul; I sighed, heart-whole —
You lived and died uncrowned.




































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