It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three
First of all, there's the name
that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor, or Jonathan,
George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names
if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen,
some for the dames;
Such as Plato, Admetus,
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you,
a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that is peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he
keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers,
or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind,
I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum--
Names that never belong
to more than one cat.
But above and beyond
there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
that no human research can discover--
But The Cat Himself Knows,
and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought,
of the thought of his name:
His ineffable, effable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
FURTHER UPDATE: The Roving Medievalist has contributed another cat poem written by a 9th Century Irish Monk...