THE SEQUEL
The children of the Pussy-Cat whose father was an Owl
Combined meows and hoots into an eery hybrid howl,
And all the folks who knew them seemed in one thing to concur:
Their skin was neither feathery, nor made of feline fur.
They flew, but not reliably. They'd plummet to the street,
Yet they were never hurt because they landed on their feet.
Though every now and then reporters asked them for a quote,
The Pussy-Owls led quiet lives with deeds of little note.
Until one day a Pussy-Owl, the oldest of the brood,
Said, "I recall a day when dad majestically hoo-hooed
And told me, 'It's my dream that all my children marry fish.'"
And so he went right out that day to grant his daddy's wish.
He found a tender mackerel, and knew with just one look
That she would always be his love. He baited up his hook.
She bit, and they had children who would learn not to disparage
The family tradition known as species intermarriage.
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